Bird baths, houses and feeders (when the black bears are not active) lure more avian visitors. I keep my camera with a telephoto lens handy, and, as I hope these photos will attest, sometimes I get lucky.Continue Reading
. . . Unlike most of the locals around Bitburg, who upon hearing my Tennessee-accented mangling of their native tongue, would grimace and immediately switch to English, Dieter and Brigeta were willing to endure my twangy Deutsch.
I was determined to exceed the typical U.S. citizen’s . . . Continue Reading
Back in my quarters, that Black Saturday night was apocalyptic: tremors rattled the building; the storm raged with thunder and lightning; ash mixed with rain continued to plummet the base. I lay, sleepless on my bunk, as my roommate jumped out of his cot in the throes of a panic attack. He jittered about the room, moaning and praying. I was worried myself . . . Continue Reading
The following photos, all of which were taken in Western North Carolina or Eastern Tennessee, are but a few from my growing collection. While many insects and spiders are works of art in themselves, I’m especially thrilled when I can . . . Continue Reading
The commander’s desk rattled; his military knick-knacks crashed to the floor. I watched, fascinated, as a crack widened on the opposite wall and the parking lot undulated outside the ground-level window . . . Continue Reading
At the age of 28, tired of bouncing from job to job . . . I opted to go back to school for a nursing degree. Once the transferable credits were applied from my B.A. in psychology, I could finish the program in only two and a half years. I just had one problem—I was broke.Continue Reading
Author’s Note: some factual details, Mary’s letter, and photos (scanned from the originals) in this article were mined from an unpublished case study I co-authored; my foggy, unofficial recollections form the rest of the story. For all dollar figures, keep in mind that a buck in 1978 would be equivalentContinue Reading
My secret nickname, Meat Grinder, for the Soddy-Daisy, Tennessee, man displaced by the Highway 27 project was partly a tribute to his roughhewn visage but more about his making hamburger out of my life. He had put me through hell, but, with the assistance of a creative mortgage banker, IContinue Reading
Sometimes a color photograph depicts the scene but misses the story. The main subject may be lost in an array of clashing colors, or bright hues might obscure a subtle message or mask the somber tone of a setting. These photos were processed with templates I customized from an AdobeContinue Reading
I briefly forgot about the butterflies in my stomach when the work clinic doc latched on to my genitals. He seemed to be checking for more than a hernia, but, sensing I wasn’t happy to be there, he quickly finished the cursory exam. A few reams of government paperwork later,Continue Reading