Perspective
The Last Gift
It suddenly happened that the family homestead was no longer to be a place of comfort and security.
It suddenly happened that the family homestead was no longer to be a place of comfort and security.
In 1955 I was 26 years old and had been married for eight years.
In those days newspaper photographers had a reputation for over-the-top behavior.
One summer afternoon when I was seven years old, I had a most interesting experience on our farm in Iowa.
Josh was loyal, loving, dumb and destructive in ways that only an energetic, tail-wagging Labrador retriever can be.