Downingtown, Pennsylvania (1983)

Birthday party on the patio of our old house.

My older brother is on the far left and I’m next to him with my mouth open.

My younger brother is between the kid in the blue shirt and the smiling kid in the white.

Mark B. is the hulking brute in green on the far right.

We would go over to the basement of his house and play Dungeons & Dragons while listening to “Back In Black.” We’d also make prank phone calls to people from his kitchen and record them on his reel to reel cassette player.

His family was Mormon and there are lots of stories about them and his Mom, who was a bit of a troubled woman.

She always wore a dressing gown around the house and was on some type of medication. One time she was gorked out of her head and decided to go for a drive. So, she backed the car down the driveway and then hit the gas and didn’t stop until she hit a rock in her neighbor’s driveway across the street, barely missing some of the neighborhood kids.

She died in the house a few years later.

I talked to my Mom last week who said they had a visit the previous day from one of our old neighbors in Downington.

The neighbor told my Mom that Mark B.’s house was haunted.

They said multiple families had moved in there since we moved away in 1985 and all reported it being haunted. They said the last family who lived there had no idea anyone had died in the home but had to move out when they kept seeing the apparition of a middle-aged woman in a dressing gown…

The Golden Isles, Georgia (2016)

From FB:

“Went fishing with my nephew. This is his verbatim account:

‘My fishing rod was caught in the mud and I couldn’t get it out so Jay Bobb came to the rescue and after a long amount of pulling he was rewarded with a shot to the nuts with a flying lead ball.'”

Sandy Point State Park, Maryland (2011)

Every weekend my wife worked and I had to take care of three young and demanding kids.

I was always looking for something to do and since it was the middle of summer and blazing hot and we couldn’t afford to belong to the local neighborhood pool, I thought about taking the kids to the ocean or something. The problem was the closest you could get was Ocean City which was three hours away.

But as I studied the map, I saw this state park on the Chesapeake that was only about an hour and a half away.

So I packed up all the kids and my nephew (that makes four kids) and our gear and we drove off into the Maryland countryside.

When we got there the beach was a dark orange rough sand on a steep slope leading to oily algae covered water. There were a bunch of Hispanic and black families playing loudly in the water, smoking cigarettes, drinking booze, and grilling food.

We waded into the lukewarm water for a bit where we could feel the slimy bottom.

I think we lasted about an hour before I packed us up and got the fuck out of there.

Vienna, Virginia (2014)

From FB:

“Even stooped over, he was still at least 6′ tall with grey skin and numerous moles on his back and neck. He had a six pack of Harp lager in his shopping cart and was wearing a black baseball cap that indicated he was a WWII veteran of an Army division I’d never heard of.

I stopped putting my items on the conveyor and walked over, extended my hand, and thanked him for his service. I finished with an “Airborne.” His grip was cold, but strong, and he laughed self-consciously and said thanks.

I continued to check out my items and he was finishing checking out his. The customer service employees at the grocery store were treating him with the proper respect and deference, and seeing if he needed help to his car. As I passed him on my way out of the store, I asked if he needed help to his car. He said, “No, but I have a question for you.”

“What’s that, sir.”

“Earlier you thanked me for my ‘service.’ It wasn’t ‘service.’ It was DUTY. I get embarrassed when people thank me for my service.”

“Well, sir, that’s just a general thing to say that I’ve learned. You never know if someone ‘served’ or if they actually saw combat. It’s just easier to err on the side of caution and call it ‘service.’

“He agreed with that and I said, “I served, too, though I never saw combat. And it’s the people of your generation who fought in World War II who inspired me to go into the Army.”

“Well, thank you for your service,” he replied.

“I have to admit, even though I’m well read on World War II, I know nothing about the 27th Infantry Division. Where were they stationed?”

“We were in the Marianas. The Central Pacific. Okinawa.”

I caught myself and said, “I’ve read ‘With the Old Breed’ by Eugene Sledge and the conditions he described there on Okinawa sounded just horrific. You have my respect, sir.”

“Let me tell you something, everywhere you go on Okinawa there’s a 1st Marine Division THIS and a 1st Marine Division THAT. There were FIVE U.S. Army Divisions there as well!”

“Well, you know what Harry Truman said about the Marine Corps,” I rejoined. “‘They have a propaganda machine that is almost equal to Stalin’s’.

“He laughed knowingly and gave me a hearty slap on the back as we said goodbye.”

Dar Chruim

From FB:

“The last Sunday in July was known in Ireland as Domhnach Crom Dubh (meaning the ‘dark, stooped one’). Crom Dubh (originally called Crom Cruach) was the chief Celtic idol of Ireland. Crom Dubh lived in the underworld throughout winter, emerging on 1st August to claim the ‘first fruits,’ in the form of Eithne the corn maiden. He lifted her on his back (hence his stoop) and brought her down to the underworld. According to Christian writers, he was propitiated with human sacrifice to ensure a rich harvest and fair weather.A decorated stone known as the Killycluggin Stone has been interpreted by some as the cult image of Crom Cruach. It was found at Killycluggin, County Cavan broken in several pieces and partly buried close to a Bronze Age stone circle.According to an Irish poem in the 12th century Book of Leinster, Crom Cruach’s cult image (consisting of a gold figure surrounded by twelve stone figures) stood on Magh Slécht (“the plain of prostration”) in County Cavan, and was propitiated with first-born sacrifice in exchange for good yields of milk and grain. Black Crom once enjoyed the unreserved worship in Ireland and other Celtic countries, before St. Patrick and the advent of Christianity.On Black Crom’s Sunday, pilgrims climb mountains and high places barefoot, particularly the mountain Croagh Patrick in County Mayo, where Patrick allegedly fasted for 40 days and battled demons. Throughout Corca Dhuibhne (the northernmost of the major peninsulas in County Kerry, Ireland), when old people insist they’re right about something, you still hear them saying ‘Dar Chruim.” Asked to translate, it means ‘by God’ or ‘by Crom.'”

Vienna, Virginia (2014)

North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (2018)

Vienna, Virginia (2011)

Digging the grave for one of our dogs who died. It was hot that day.

North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (2018)

La Habana, Cuba (2007)

Every night before we put our oldest daughter to bed, I’d put on a CD playlist especially designed to bring calm into the world so she could rest.

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