Authors

Rose Madeline Mula writes: Another oddity — everyone today walks around clutching a water bottle in one hand and a tiny, flat, rectangular object that they claim is a telephone in the other. Huh? If that’s a telephone, no wonder they have no idea what we mean when we tell the to “hang up the phone” or if we complain that the phone is “ringing off the hook.” They are also baffled when we talk about “dialing” a number. But then we are equally bewildered when they complain that someone has “ghosted” them or they describe something as “dope” or “lit.” If these kids were transported back to the past, they would be lost. Literally. No GPS back then.                                                                 more »

Justice delayed is not justice denied, is the major conclusion one reaches after reading Jerry Mitchell’s quest to convict the killers of 1960s civil rights activists. But it is a race against time. Many of these killers died normal deaths without serving any time for their misdeeds. But not all. Some lived long enough to be convicted decades later, by juries that could not have existed, let alone convicted, in the 1960s. This book is a good read; both entertaining and informative. more »

Nichola Gutgold writes: Elizabeth Warren during the CNN and Des Moines Register Democratic Debate in Iowa, Jan. 14, 2020: “I will do what a president can do all by herself on the very first day.” Amy Klobuchar in her closing statement at the same debate: “...if you want to do something about racial justice and immigration reform and climate change and gun safety, we need a candidate who is actually going to bring people with her.” With “her.” By “herself.” In a year of pronounced pronouns, the pronouns referring to a woman president are especially notable. more »

Margaret Cullison writes: I looked down at the farms below us, my eyes tracking the highway that led into town. Then I saw the swimming pool, the grade school, and finally our house. The little plane banked deeply as we circled. I held onto the edge of my seat and looked out the window at my side, which was now almost beneath me. The roof of our house loomed large below us, and then Dad pulled the plane out of the circling turn and dipped the wings in greeting. He turned his head towards me, the gold rim of his glasses glinting in the sunlight, and he grinned at the show we'd put on for the groundlings. more »