by James B. Nicola I heard my mother’s voice today. Thanksgiving weekend. Ten years this January. My nephew played a very loving voice mail message from her he has kept on his cell phone ten years. My brother said he has kept three such messages. My nephew said he had another one and wept awhile. It made…
by John Benner At the Lincoln Memorial, throngs of tourists in neon T-shirts streamed off buses, laughing and sometimes even singing as they surged up the steps to stare at the statue of the long-dead president until the oven-hot air tamed them into the sodden crowd that trudged back down…
