I write in defense of memory. Not Memory in her gaudy mythological form, the Titan goddess Mnemosyne, mother of the nine Muses—but memory as the glue that holds our lives together and imposes order and continuity amid the blooming buzzing confusion of sensations, thoughts, and activities that . . . . Continue Reading »
By leaving an imprint on our grandkids, we throw a line to generations we’ll never live to see. To be a grandparent is to build a bridge of hope from the past into the future. Continue Reading »
In 1980, the soldiers of the Third Reich took Bolivia. After the huge tank battles that had brought about the final victory in Europe, South America was something more like a police operation—in fact, the conquest of the country was led not by the Wehrmacht, but by a Hauptsturmführer of the . . . . Continue Reading »
Though I was on the verge of growing up, the Civil War Centennial revealed to me the reality of the past; it enchanted me, and wove a spell. Continue Reading »