My uncle had a lot of books in his library, but the one book I was drawn to every time we visited his house contained a collection of photographs of World War II.
It was a large, heavy book, so I usually placed it on the floor and lay in front of it, propped up on my elbows. I would slowly page through it, looking at pictures as vivid in my mind now as they were on the page then: Continue Reading →











I have been to a world’s fair, the Grand Canyon and a rodeo. But until the last week, I had never seen a same-sex wedding or attended a book signing at which I was one of the signers. 

