Lemon Rice Soup

For at least a decade now, whenever my best friend and I have had to drive from our current homes in Chicago back into Northwest Indiana where we grew up, for weddings or baby showers or, alas, now… Read More

How Do Your Memories Smell?

My mother died in 1987, when I was eight years old. My brother was five and my sister was two. Her breast cancer had been discovered too late by condescending doctors who had pooh-poohed her earlier complaints and… Read More

Behind the Scenes at a Small Town Police Station

My maternal grandmother (or Nanny, as we called her) was a radio dispatcher for our small-town police department until her retirement in the early 1990s. She had actually worked, for a number of years, way before I was… Read More