The Rambler
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The Rambler-No.2
Andrew was in the side garden and starting to tell me the story of how it all came about. My appointment was at 10:00 o’clock in the morning. I had tried three different doors including the main one facing Route 140 but all were locked and there had been no response to my knocks. “This … More A life in Art
The parking-lot attendant who came out of his shack next to The Palladium on Main St. bundled against the cold to say “that’ll be fifteen dollars” should have been the first tipoff that it was going to be a bad day. Ned Banyon knew they always charged ten, never more than that. Ned’s daughter Alice … More ʽIf I ran this Courthouseʼ
He was an old man by the time we met although no one would have known this because he wore his age well like a fine wool coat does and then there was the perpetual smile along with a love for the company of others. This would have been in the mid-1990s and the first … More George Busada, RIP