Posted inArts & Culture

To Clothe the Naked

There was a wind that afternoon; it came straight off the lake and brought the chill factor down to zero. When Deidrich turned onto Jackson and saw the beggar his first thought was of his own good fortune–to be employed, married to a wise woman, warmly housed, and the owner of several damned good winter […]

Posted inNews & Politics

Bullheaded

Bullheaded By Paul Pekin The first fish I ever caught came out of McGinnis Slough. They were only bullheads, but I was already 16. Mine was a childhood of streets and sidewalks, of bricks and concrete, and of a father who played the piano. Never mind Huck and Tom and that Norman Rockwell kid who […]

Posted inNews & Politics

War Stories

War Stories By Paul Pekin I was playing pinochle with my sister and her friend Eddie Peterson when news of Pearl Harbor came over the kitchen radio. War news had become so routine that we managed to finish several hands before we realized that this time the bombing was being done to us. I was […]

Posted inNews & Politics

Line Kings

By Paul Pekin I was on the beach north of Ludington, and the lake was so blue and bright it hurt my heart. “They won’t be in today,” the man from Kalamazoo was saying. “This is too damn nice a day for steelhead. It’s got to be cold so you can’t stand it. It’s got […]

Posted inNews & Politics

In the Light

I can cry only if I let myself cry, which comes perilously close to saying I cry only if I make myself do it. So when I woke up in the dead of last night crying, I felt shame. My sleep had been going poorly already. It wasn’t a matter of disturbing dreams, simply a […]

Posted inNews & Politics

Caught in the Act

Hugh Grant was arrested…for what? Oh, that. The older I get the more confusing this world seems. Not the arrest. Hell no. In my glory days as a forest-preserve copper I arrested plenty of people for that–or something like that. There are variations on variations. If you’re one of those people who spent your hormone […]

Posted inNews & Politics

Home

There are mornings when I step out on the front porch, and the bells of the historic old churches are sounding in the distance, and the vendors who sell the Spanish ices and the ears of corn and the tropical fruits on a stick are pushing their carts, and