personal stories Independence Way I understood that there were economic and educational forces at work that made our lives abundantly different. My mother carried burgers and open-faced sandwiches as a waitress at a short-order restaurant. My father lifted bumpers out of a metal press for delivery to the assembly line.
Journalism Outbound Train "Mike and I had both earned college scholarships with our performances as high school distance runners and were formulating plans for our lives that did not include Vietnam or our home state, which is why he had agreed to drive me to the Canadian National Train station in Windsor, Ontario."
personal stories Whither Thou Goest, America? Whenever you are heading west across the Plains states, there comes a moment when you sense, not even feel, the earth begin to rise beneath your wheels. There is no explaining the moment or the emotion but a traveler begins to become hopeful.
personal stories Adventures of a Young Man: The Searcy Incident I went into the studio, squeaked up my voice, and recorded: “Serving 22 homes, three gas stations, two donut shops, and ten thousand pickup trucks, this is KNAB, Burlington, Colorado,” which was followed by a tinkling of bells.
personal stories Contents of a Car I cleaned out my car. There was more stuff than you might expect. And it was a study of humanity.
personal stories To Grandmother's House We Go The late-night drive home along FM roads took me back to childhood holiday road trips. Passing farms and fields with small frame houses, many bare save for one or two light strings and maybe a plastic manger scene. It took me back.
Journalism Goldberg “Parking meters look like periscopes,” I said, as the first video appeared. It was a flood story.
personal stories Boyhood Much of the culture from south of the Mason-Dixon Line had come north with us in our rattly old cars and cardboard boxes of modest belongings, which meant racism traveled as well as coon hunting.
Border Born Between Two Cupboards "I was naïve and knew nothing of hurricanes but thought I had been clever by evading the evacuation order. In a phone booth in front of the restaurant, I called Associated Press Radio Network in Washington and told them I was on the island and had refused to be evacuated."
Travel Any Road West "There was never a moment I was not excited, and even in the aloneness of a sleeping bag on an empty beach or behind a boulder in a remote rest area, I was often too energized to even close my eyes."
Guns OK, Yes! I shot my foot! Now shuttup! I'm not Wild Bill, obviously. Unless there are legends he kept secret.
Travel American Memory Within an hour, we went from curious explorers of history to mercenary capitalists, transporting alcohol in quantity across state lines w/o a license or a permit. In the dorm, we sold out in a few hours at $3 a can, $20 for a six-pack, and $90 for a case. I had never made more money in one day.
personal stories A Port in History's Storm The Titan submersible, carried past the narrows on a ship for a launch above the Titanic’s wreckage, now leaves its imprimatur of sadness on a people who have known too long and too well that the sea exacts a price for its glory and bounty, and preparation is the best hope for survival.
personal stories Rest Easy John Nova Lomax "I’m of the opinion that the loss of John’s writing and his sheer doggedness in following the rabbit trails of a good story equates to a loss for all of Texas, whether the state knows that or not."
Travel Looking for Mr. Brautigan “I always wanted to write a book that ended with the word mayonnaise.” - Richard Brautigan, Poet and Novelist
personal stories David Crosby and My Brother Everyone's wish for a "Happy New Year" doesn't stave off personal loss. Grief has no calendar. Before time runs out, there's something you can do.
personal stories Zen and the Art of Remaining Upright When I had first encountered Robert M. Pirsig’s book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values... I kept rereading through the years and grew to appreciate its subtle teachings. “The real cycle you’re working on,” he wrote, “is a cycle called ‘yourself.’
personal stories The Great Voice of the Great Plains Is there a list somewhere of things I am not supposed to say?” “Don’t try to be funny your first day on the job.” “When can I try to be funny?” “Not on our air.” “I suppose you’re right. Humor never works anywhere, does it?” “Look, we are a time, temperature, and news format.” “That’s a format?”
personal stories Down Mexico Way We were stopped by soldiers with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. They came up with a plastic bucket and were taking donations to support a political candidate. Not contributing seemed like a bad option when the soliciting party was armed. $10 got us on our way into the mountains.
personal stories A Rare Celebration of Hope "I am by nature an optimistic kind of fellow. “Naïve” might even be a better word; it is certainly more descriptive of how I have gone through life. The world has been depleting my reservoirs of optimism of late.
personal stories Cowboy Down “One cannot be pessimistic about the West. This is the native home of hope. When it fully learns that cooperation, not rugged individualism, is the quality that most characterizes and preserves it, then it will have achieved itself and outlived its origins." - Wallace Stegner, Western author
Religion "Is Gandhi in Heaven?" and Other Conundra for Our Times Sister Mary Elizabeth was my sixth-grade teacher at St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles grade school in San Antonio. I do not think I am being immodest in saying that I was probably the most arrogant, annoying little smartass in the class.
personal stories The Guns of October “Ours is a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants. We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living. We have grasped the mystery of the atom and rejected the Sermon on the Mount.”― Gen. Omar N. Bradley
personal stories When Horses Could Fly My mother’s love gave me the courage to say no. Even if I wanted to indulge in their teenaged stupidity, I resisted because getting caught and arrested would have destroyed Ma. She wanted something better, which she was unable to even define, for her kids.
personal stories Brave young women cast inspiring light on small town in wake of a bigot at the bar "You never know when brave and passionate souls will step up to make it clear that small-town sensibilities won’t always stifle a call for at the least tolerance, and at the most justice and a full acknowledgment of civil rights."