The Whites called it a battle when soldiers entered a village at dawn and killed men, women, and children as they slept or as they fled for their lives. However, when Indians killed only soldiers on a field of battle, the Whites called it a massacre. For instance: The Day: 21 December 1866, as the […]
Frank Grouard was a real person (google him). I came across this remarkable document in 2012. The manuscript of which he spoke was never found, but Frank’s letter sent me off on a quest of my own. The letter printed below was found in 1945, in the attic of an old New York City brownstone […]
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!” — Hunter S. Thompson, The Proud Highway: Saga of a […]
I ran into Jimmy in the summer of 1969 when I was hitchhiking to California. I was standing by the side of the road just outside of Gallup, New Mexico, hoping to catch a ride at least as far as Flagstaff before it got dark. As the sun kissed the rim of the earth, turning […]
I once had a girl. We met at a jazz club on the Upper West Side. My friend Lane had dragged me there, telling me I would really dig the sax player. I didn’t want to go because I was broke and I was embarrassed that Lane always picked up the check when we were […]
I wake up ’bout midnight, every night. Just cain’t sleep no more because my woman’s drivin’ me crazy. I told her a long, long time ago she was makin’ me nuts. Now, to keep my peace of mind, I’m gonna have to kill her. I’m walkin’ the dark, lonely streets, gun in hand. Lookin’ for […]
I see God in every face. Just people living their lives. People surviving, getting through life the best they can. You can see it in their faces, in their eyes, in their smiles. I see perseverance, I see love. I see all of us growing old and learning. I see God … and once again […]
I’m three steps from meeting my maker. Three more steps to the noose. I’m ready to die; I reckon I deserve to die. I’ve killed before, but never for such a frivolous reason as brings me to these last three steps. The whole mess started down El Paso way when I walked into that little […]
I saw Jesus the night before he died, the night before he hauled that damn cross up the hill. I ran into him outside that little bakery, the one across from the wine shop on the main street. He was sitting on the stoop, talking to a gaggle of children. He always did love the […]
