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Mitch Millison’s Last Act
First there was the sacred, then the profane. Our family attended Oakdale Emory United Methodist Church, just up the road from where we lived in Olney, Maryland. After we’d moved to Maryland, my Sunday...
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How to Build a Time Machine
First, you’ll need something that I’ve struggled to get all my life. Attentiveness. The knack for staying in the present. First let me step back from the family history for a moment and look at the...
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Tell Me a Story
Once upon a time, there were no stories. Umm, what? That’s right. It’s a ridiculous statement to make, because I can’t remember such a time. If there ever was a true beginning of the world, then that...
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Ladder (Part 1)
[First of a two-part post.] Ah, Pop. I was your first-born. So naturally you were excited to do father and son activities, such as my Cub Scout soapbox derby race, or when we gathered wood for...
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Ladder (Part 2)
[Last of a two-part post.] “You, Michael,” my late father once said to me, “are a pack rat. It doesn’t take you long to make your nest.” Whether that quote is verbatim, I don’t know. But he said...
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You Were My Book (Part 1)
[First of a two-part post.] On Thursday, May 10, 1990, I wrote in the journal: “This is an attempt to write about what happened almost two weeks ago. It’s about Bud Morris’ wedding in Louisville,...
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