Hunting For The American Me

The year was 2002, the year after Mom died, and for the first time since I was 19 years I was back home, back in Dodge. Not right in my “home”, an apartment in town, actually, on the other side of the river from my actual home. It, I suppose, has become our families response […]


Abandoned, But Not Forgotten

I’ve become very attached to these youngsters, called British Home Children. I never suspected there were so many in our township, but for the last few days I’ve discovered 16, and have been following the trail of two in particular. Here is a bit of their story. In late August of 1895 two boys, ages […]