“God can’t fill what is already full,” Father Jack O’Hara reminded us this morning at the first of nine 5 a.m. Simbang Gabi Masses at my parish. That’s Father Jack for you. A soft-spoken priest who was our vicar for many years until a
“Nothing Is Ever Lost”
I thought it was lost, my autographed copy of Kathleen Norris’s The Middle of the World, a collection of her poetry I bought in December 1982 at a reading. But I found it last week as
Of Bill Janklow, Youth, and Our Better Angels
I worked for United Press International in South Dakota from 1978 to 1982, the time during which Bill Janklow began in earnest his reign as my home state’s version of Huey
Private Lives Revealed
I live with my sister in a typical big-city high-rise apartment complex. This one has two towers of 21 floors of apartments and, on the main floor, a variety of amenities, including a