Columns

In a recent TV series about a very successful law firm, located somewhere in the United States, two of the principals were discussing the possibility of starting a pro bono office to represent the poor in their community.

I was without so much as a step-father when my mother married Bob Kliment, a radio announcer at WCHS in Charleston. Bob was from Rochester, New York. He came from strong German stock and was a no-nonsense individual. He was mom's fifth husband, and in the beginning, he and I rarely spoke. I resented rather than disliked him from the start.

September started with new tariffs going live. What has followed and will follow for the month of September is a rally.

Every night when the clock strikes midnight, my neighbors, who live in the mobile home on my right, come out to sit on their porch and smoke marijuana.

As an only child, I often felt lonely and left out. My cousin Bill, with siblings coming every year, did not have that problem. He was always happy to be away from what he called “too much family.”