“…sometimes the law does not do what it should, and something being legal does not make it right.” — Stacey Abrams
The late Mary Brown was a close relative whom I scarcely knew: my grandfather’s sister. A country girl who married into money, she was a Southern grande dame, as extravagant as she was aloof.
She died from cancer (the treatments, not the disease) when I was in my early teens. Despite geographical proximity, I only saw Mary a couple of times in the single digits of my youth, and unlike other doting aunts and vying uncles, eager to be endearing, who courted me with candy bars and bakery treats, she never zeroed in on my presence. (Perhaps she disapproved of my mother’s status as a divorced woman, although Mrs. Brown had, seemingly, no qualms about her only daughter being married off to an eminently presentable gangster. That’s how things were in the Deep South back then.)
2 or 3 things I remember about her: (more…)
Circa Spring ’17.
Originally posted December 31, 2010
Originally posted December 25, 2009
“When he came out of the house the last intense light of the winter day was pouring over the town below him, and the bushy tree-tops and the church steeples gleamed like copper…
…he would never go away from Haverford; he had been through too much here ever to quit the place for good. What was a man’s ‘home town’ anyway, but the place where he had had disappointments and had learned to bear them?”
— Willa Cather, from Lucy Gayheart, 1935