Obituaries, you gotta love them.
My mother used to call them the Irish Sports Pages. Others have called them the Irish Comics or the Irish Racing Form.
Obituaries, you gotta love them.
My mother used to call them the Irish Sports Pages. Others have called them the Irish Comics or the Irish Racing Form.
Jesus. It was supposed to be a simple weekday lunch with my father.
In 1981 I went to France and left my mark.
I gave my soul a name, Tommy.
In the 1960’s, I went to confession at Saint Joe’s Catholic Church in Libertyville, Illinois.
Ours was a common post-war catholic family. Nine kids, five boys and four girls, bouncing off each other 24/7. We all went to the same mass every Sunday and sucked up a whole pew.
On a Saturday afternoon in June of 1962, when I was seven years old, I left my hometown without a parent for the first time. That day, my three older brothers and I drove from our house in Libertyville, Illinois to Lake Forest, Illinois.
Sometimes it takes only a few minutes for the world to jerk you from one stage of your life to the next.
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