Tales of a Peckerwood Baby

“Not Equating Death With Stopping”*

This is a story I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone, at least not in its entirety. It’s a very personal story, but not really mine.  In 1988 I lived in an apartment in Central Phoenix.  It was my first apartment ever.  It was within walking distance of Park Central. One Sunday afternoon I...

Listening to Better Angels

When I was 24, I lived in a tiny town called Parker, Arizona, located on a reservation straddling the Arizona/California border.  It was a short-term thing.  A “zig” on the path of my life; a zig that was unexpected, but much needed.  I had landed there because that’s where my college friend M was...