Mr Brian
Something old, something new
Category: story
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My grandfather's charity was associated with him and his efforts; but, the idea for what would eventually be called ProDeo was actually my grandmother's. She suggested that they contact Catholic schools across the country and have them sell Christmas cards as fundraisers with all profits being donated to Catholic missionaries around the world. As incentive…
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My Irish grandfather on my mother's side was a great influence on me. He was about five and a half feet tall, very boisterous and strong with a thick shock of white hair. He saved me when I left university in 1980 and moved to New York. He lived with my grandmother on Fieldston Road…
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For 40 years she sat by the kitchen window looking out onto Fieldston Road and disparaged everybody that passed by. Although she never left the house, she knew all the gossip and she would impart little quips about their looks, or behavior, or their preccadilloes in a dry Irish brogue. She was one of the…
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My Irish grandfather, Michael Burke, was the oldest of ten children and an immigrant from Lenamore, County Mayo. My earliest memories of him was of this obnoxiously loud, prickly faced, crazy man that would grab me and rub his stubbled face against mine until the grownups yelled at him to stop. It was agonizing but…
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Fetterman and his ilk remind me of the story I read yesterday about when Steve Jobs told Corning CEO Wendel Weeks in 2007 that he was too chicken by thinking about himself and not the company when he initially said no to Jobs request to providing all the glass screens for new iPhone. Politicians are like…
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In the fifties in the era of velvet elvis paintings women, mostly, would project their vision of their plastic wrapped living rooms into the garden. And, invariable the centerpiece of this vision of domestic harmony and grace was a 3 foot white pedestal with reflective ball in hue of choose. Typically next to this highly…
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he was a gunslinger in a time when everyman did wrong but no more once the man brought 600 people to town.
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I am not sure if it was the sound of the waves pounding the beach with a muffled kaaa BOOM or Pat's soft foot patter as he squeezed open the door and said "There're waves" and then quickly left to get ready. The bottom of your feet become soft in the morning if you were…
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It was a simple morning when we set out. Early down county to the sea. Old volvo two door red, stick shift. eggbeater 4 clyliner whining over hills and around corners as we went through red lion before taking a left to the river shortcut. The susquehanna river has two famous distinctions that of being…
