For years I have dreamed of owning a family restaurant. Strange I know, but for over 20 years I have described it in detail to Tim from the menu to the name. This dream began in 1988 when I flew to New York to meet my friend who flew from England. Together we visited a mutual friend in the heart of Amish country, Pennsylvania. It's hard to recall everything we did on this adventure, but I will never forget going to the most amazing restaurant called Good 'n...

Never shall I forget that night the first night in camp which has turned my life into one long night seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky. Never shall I forget those flames which consumed my faith forever. Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which deprived me for all eternity of the de...

From deep beneath the cobwebs of my memory a story has come to mind from my primary years. Usually, to jog a memory, there needs to be a connection between the present and the past, an association that correlates the here and now with the there and then. For me it was simply a tent. The story was titled Room Enough, in which a little old farmer's wife complained to her doctor that she didn't have enough room in her little farm house. The doctor's orders wer...

Hey! We're still alive! We have been busy doing all sorts of interesting and exciting things in Georgia, North and South Carolina, and Virginia. We have: enjoyed numerous concerts at the Savannah Music Festival, tours of Fort Sumter and Fort Moultrie, boogie boarding on the Carolina beaches, picked buckets of fresh straw berries, went to Cape Hatteras - the tallest light house in North America, observed the very spot where Orville and Wilbur Wright flew the ...

In the South... Not the sunny south of Florida, but the Southern South, where they eat grits, fried chicken, and tawlk with lowng drawn ouwt vouwels. This is the south which seceded, in which the first shots of civil war were fired, and battles were fought from forts and plantations over the fundamental right of freedom. I read yesterday on an old man's t-shirt, "Freedom Isn't Free!" and unless I have missed something significant, it wasn't for the rights of...