All Purls. No Swine.
It will be six years ago next Thursday since my stepson Sam died, and I wrote the post below. Today, July 20, 2024, would have been Sam's fifty-ninth birthday: "His family calls him Sam.” It was the afternoon of Monday, December 11, 2017. The phone was ringing, from a number in Pittsburgh that seemed vaguely… Continue reading Happy Birthday, Our Sam
Today would have been my stepson's fifty-eighth birthday. He died, five years ago next week, from a brutal beating by a pair of thugs who were convicted of causing his death, and who are are currently serving their jail time at the pleasure of the United States government. Things being what they are, I expect… Continue reading “His Name is Sam”
Queen Elizabeth once famously referred to 1992 as the annus horribilis, one upon which “[she would] not look back with undiluted pleasure.” Among other calamities, it was the year of Andrew and Fergie’s separation, of Princess Anne and Mark Phillips’s divorce, of explosive revelations which set the already on-the-rocks marriage of Charles and Lady Diana… Continue reading A Just Judge
As many of you know, my stepson, Sam, was assaulted on December 8, 2017. His brain was pulverized, his body was broken in a dozen places, he spent seven months in a coma, never regaining consciousness, and he died on July 25, 2018, five days after his fifty-third birthday. (I recently referred, in rather less… Continue reading Justice for Sam. Sort of. Or the Best We Could Do, Anyway
His family calls him Sam.” It was the afternoon of Monday, December 11, 2017. The phone was ringing, from a number in Pittsburgh that seemed vaguely familiar, so I picked it up. “Hello, I’m looking for the family of Francis [Hard-to-pronounce Polish last name with lots of awkwardly placed consonants and far too few vowels]… Continue reading Our Sam