WWI: I have so many questions…

So much of this trip has been about discovering a grandfather who was never a part of my memory.  David Sanford Cutler died suddenly from what may have been a staph infection in 1926.  His sons Calvin (my father) and David were only two and four years old...

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...

Shining Silver

I have honored Santa Argenta, the patron saint of gleaming metal, and polished silver twinkles on the table I have set for the first of our pair of Thanksgiving dinners, the modest meal I share with my Dear One and my Tattooed Boy on Thursday evening that precedes the...

Lost in the Family Forest

One finds relatives in the most unexpected places. I know a lot about my relatives. I am that family member—and there is always one—endowed with the genealogy gene. I inherited the published books, the old photographs, letters and diaries, and the odd notes and...

My Two Dads

Dear Cal and Charlie, Father’s Day comes and goes. I remind my Tattooed Boy to call his father. I try to indulge my Dear One, serving meals he likes, joining in whatever pastimes that give him pleasure. I read the remembrances and eulogies that fill the papers and...

James and the Giant Fall

The subject line of Emily’s e-mail was “James and the Giant Fall.” The funny headline all but trumpeted the reassuring news contained in the note. James is the sixth of my mother’s grandchildren. A gangly, bearded boy, he is a lover of wild places and high elevations....