WWI: Going High on the Bar

I knew there was an upper town and a lower town in Bar-le-Duc; I was a little less clear on the difference in elevation. The Ornain and its fellow waterway the Canal of the Marne cut through the town’s steep hillsides from northwest to southeast. They plus a few...

WWI: Blue Cows and Saints

I lay in bed and listened to the rain insistent on the roof. We would go to Liffol-le-Grand, I decided. Liffol-le-Grand is one of the small towns near Neufchatel, an administrative center of the American Expeditionary Force, which provided housing for soldiers. It was...

WWI: Belle Skinner’s Passion

The visitor’s guide to Hattonchâtel opens with a discussion of geology established 150 million years ago as rivers cut down through soft strata leaving limestone bluffs to tower over the plain, a perfect natural fortification and a position that provides gorgeous...

WWI: In the Trenches

Nicole insisted we go to the church in Marbotte, a key stop on the Salient circuit, on our first full day, a Sunday. In 2002 we obeyed the emphatic directions of a desk clerk at the hotel in Arles, heading into the Camargue instead of driving to our planned...

WWI: Bread and Monuments

Frost was thick on the windshield of the rented Renault Scenic, the eight o’clock sky above Montsec palely blue, and sunshine reflected off the mist collected in the valley. Yesterday was long and mostly damp and gray until the fog burned off midafternoon. The flight...

I Could Sit and Rock Forever

Whitecaps foamed on brown Susquehanna waters and gusting winds snatched at tickets and threatened the frame tents sheltering crafts people and food vendors. It was only a little past noon and already Deesigns by Deena was packing up. Necklaces with cross-sections of...

Goodnight, Irene! What a Mess!

Pay attention, folks. We are trashing the world and hurricanes and the ensuing floods are throwing it back at us. Making a wreck of our world is not like making a wreck of our childhood bedrooms—Mother Nature, unlike our own mothers, cannot pick up the garbage we...

The Silver Bell

I had not thought I would watch the remembrances. I remember the horror too well to think that reliving it over and over again will do anything to blur the vision, to dull the ache. Yet I did. I sat on the couch with newspapers and coffee, watching as the clock ticked...

Goodnight, Irene

She came and she went. We spent several days with ear cocked to the weather reports, doing this and that to prepare for assault on our sovereign territory. I excavated white river stones where they had become embedded in dirt washed down from above, added a wide and...

No Silence about the Lambs

This year we again bought a lamb at the Harford County Fair 4-H auction. Our freezer has been lambless for some months but the decision to bid was very last-minute. A call about a week after the event let us know the amount owed, that our lamb had been delivered to...