In 1989, there were several reports of tourists being killed while visiting game parks in Kenya. When people found out that we were about to travel to Africa, they asked with alarm, “Should you really go?”
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Where Have the Years Gone?

I surely don’t remember getting older, but here I am!   (See Bus Stop)

And yet although I often forget where I parked my car,  or where I left my eyeglasses,   I can still remember in loving detail the big rubber boots my father wore as he pulled me on my sled during the northeastern snow storm of 1947.  (See Blizzard)

This thing called aging is strange if nothing else ,  but a saving grace has been this amazing website where fellow writers – many I’ve never met – have become kindred souls sharing some of my memories,  my joys and sorrows,  my victories and defeats,  and even some of my regrets.  And reading their stories has helped validate my own,  made me a bit wiser,  and even more grateful to have journeyed this far!

But tell me please –  where have the years gone?

– Dana Susan Lehrman 

In 1979, six-year-old Etan Patz disappeared on his way to his school bus stop in Lower Manhattan.
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I don’t remember if the first time Homer broke a hole in one of the lower screens and escaped was during a thunderstorm, or during some Fourth of July fireworks...
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