Latest in a series after a recent trip to my native New England
CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS — We are searching for the tomb of an old friend in the lush beauty of Mount Auburn Cemetery, established in 1831, a few miles outside of Cambridge. From its higher points, the Boston skyline is visible across the Charles River.
We came back to Mount Auburn, which we first visited in 2009, to try to find the family tomb of Isabella Stewart Gardner. I called her an old friend because that is how Gardner feels to us, this amazing woman who used her family wealth — and that of her willing husband — to acquire...
Read more...
I met Phil Latham in July 1989 when interviewing for a job at the Lufkin Daily News. At the time, I was working unhappily as editor and publisher of the Fort Stockton Pioneer. That part of West Texas didn’t suit me, though some fine people lived there. When I watched a tumbleweed the size of a Volkswagen Beetle come tumbling down the central street downtown, I knew it was time to leave.
So, I called Joe Murray, then editor and publisher of the Lufkin paper, saying I would take anything to get back to East Texas. He put me in touch with Phil, then his managing editor, who told me to make the long...
Read more...
CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS — After five days of unseasonably warm weather, at last we have been rewarded on a brilliant Saturday with near-perfect temperatures in the 70s, just in time for a nice hike along Walden Pond, a few miles outside this quaint town of nearly 20,000. I was born 60 miles north in Concord, New Hampshire. This is my first visit to its Bay State counterpart, incorporated in 1775 and celebrating its 250th birthday this year. The Granite State Concord is a decade older and sports about twice as many residents. Neither town is exactly a metropolis.
Walden Pond gained its fame...
Read more...
First in a series from my native New England.
AUBURNDALE, MASSACHUSETTS — The small towns circling Boston meld seamlessly into each other, often in a matter of blocks, one weather-beaten city limits sign after another. The place we booked is allegedly in Newton but shows up as Auburndale in our maps app. I went on a walk just after sunrise the other day as my Beautiful Mystery Companion and daughter Abbie slept. I discovered where Purgatory Cove, which laps up against the backyard of our Airbnb rental, feeds into the Charles River. I went from Auburndale to Newton in a matter of steps. Suddenly,...
Read more...
I maintain a small Red Sox shrine near my desk, acquired over the years. There’s a Mr. Potato Head in uniform, holding a baseball glove in his right hand and a ball in his left. I was a left-handed baseball player, both batting and throwing, even though I do everything else right-handed — eating, playing tennis. That is why my Mr. Potato Head Red Sox guy is also left-handed. His arms are detachable.
A Big Papi bobblehead doll resides in the shrine. David Ortiz was a key player in the 2004 championship season that ended an 86-year World Series drought for the Red Sox. He went on to help the team...
Read more...
This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising.
Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
— John Muir
In March 2020, during the early weeks of the pandemic, a graphic designer was living in an apartment in Amsterdam. Like tens of millions of us, digital creator Barbara Duriau was stuck at home. It seems so long ago, almost unreal now. The pandemic’s effects were stark and real. Most people knew at least...
Read more...
