Few things in life are more tedious than having to listen to converts gush about their conversion experiences, whether religious, ideological, psychological or political. No matter how extreme, egregious or mundane the former sin (or lapse, as it were), the particulars all hew to the same pattern: I was lost, and then I … More Cast iron convert
What Lilah said, the way she said it, the way she pushed her hands outward as if trying to slow some oncoming force or releasing a bird or a thought or a wish, something ephemeral and flighty, the way her blue eyes bored into mine. The way she bent over the … More The killing grounds
We were exhausted the following morning having arrived home filthy and mud-crusted around 1:30 a.m. My brother Reece, never an early riser, nevertheless showed up on our doorstep at a reasonably early hour for our return trip to the Ojito Wilderness. Though there were two opposing theories about the timing of our return—later … More Return to Ojito
From what I can tell from a reconstructed second-hand conversation made days later, about the time my brother Reece and I coasted to a stop on a mudslick road west of San Ysidro, New Mexico, to inspect what appeared to be a sodden hay bale blocking our route, my wife asked my parents … More Escape from Ojito
When Carol Hood saw the ball, she knew she wanted it. Bad. The ball was marbled pink with prominent breast cancer awareness ribbons and unmarked by finger holes. It was a bowling ball—a very special bowling ball—on display at the United States Bowling Congress 2006 Women’s Championships in Reno, Nev. Hood … More In memory of Carol Hood: Resetting the pins, a cancer survivor and one really special ball
For years, for decades, we carried the box of photographs from old home to new, adding to it now and then but for the most part simply finding space for it wherever we landed. The box contained—or so I thought—a photographic record of our life together, or at least the portions when I shot negative … More Worthless treasure
Afterwards, when downtown Frankfort began to thin out and the crush of vehicles both old and new began their long journeys back to their various starting points along Highway 9, KTWU Sunflower Journeys producer Bill Shaffer turned his video camera on me and asked when we were going to do another car run. … More At the end of the road
The last shall be the first, and the first last. The phrase kept running through my head as the car run unspooled from its lineup in front of the majestic Brown Grand Theater in downtown Concordia to make its way into the rising sun, the morning cool and clear and virtually windless, … More The Kansas White Way Car Run celebrates 100 years of road history
The north wind is both unnerving and invigorating, simultaneously creating and releasing tension. It howls and roars like an incoming train, batters the house, bends the trees, strips chaff from the field, rocks me on my heels. To the west the sky darkens to the color of an oil slick and the sound … More All that we hold dear
Go with me, my good angels, to my end; And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, And lift my soul to heaven. – Shakespeare, Henry VIII If there is any immortality to be had on this earth it is through the selfless sacrifice … More Lift my soul to heaven
