Sitting in my kitchen, watching my boys tubing down the small slope in our backyard, I was warm. They were not. Even in the snow, they had fun: sliding, crashing into the bushes, and climbing
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The warmth of winter and all its wonders
Stories by the fireside… We didn’t have a fireplace in our New York City apartment, although my dad continued his fireside storytelling tradition throughout the winter months—minus the crackling fire of course. I remember many
Read moreGhosts of White Winters Past
Winter, 1969. New York City A blizzard’s eerie silence overshadowed the distant honking and revving engines from the usual Saturday night car races. I remember my dad‘s contagious laugh echoing through our apartment hallway after
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