Why Ain’t You a Doc?

March 15, 2016

Doc Bozeman tried to concentrate on that bullet—black and glistening with blood—and not on the fact that it was lodged in John Dillinger’s shoulder. Muscle and tissue gripped it like the gangster didn’t want to give it up, and Bozeman maneuvered to get a grip with his forceps.

Remembering Dorothy Day

March 3, 2016

Dorothy Day and I go way back. Granted, I never met her, but I can’t help but feel a connection after volunteering every third Saturday for the past twenty years at the Dorothy Day Center in downtown Saint Paul.

The English Language Class

March 1, 2016

To begin again after seventy, to change

from fluent Amharic, Ukrainian, Russian
to I speak a little English,

Learn the Fundamentals: An Interview with Billy Peterson

February 5, 2016

Billy Peterson has left his impression on Saint Paul baseball for more than five decades.

My Second Grade Teacher

January 26, 2016

I was seven years old, in second grade, and tired on a daily basis. Most mornings I arrived at Highland Elementary School after limited sleep. I was robbed of sleep by

Do We Remember . . . the North Central Voters League?

January 26, 2016

The “sizzling sixties” stands out as one of the most dramatic seachanging decades in the annals of American political and social history.

The Good Ole Days All Over Again

January 21, 2016

Hi there! Everyone talks about the good old days—how they used to be—what a difference from today. Remember when gas was 25¢ a gallon? And cigarettes 26¢ a box with a 1¢ tax? Wow!

Fire on Pig’s Eye Island

January 19, 2016

Pig’s Eye Island owes its name to a nineteenth-century trader, Pig’s Eye Parrant, who sold liquor and guns along the Mississippi’s watery highway.

Cheesehead

January 15, 2016

Conceived, born, and raised in Green Bay, Wisconsin—that’s me, Paul Vincent Bartlett, a (displaced) cheesehead. And not of your typical Wisconsin lineage.

From the Beginning: Forums, Theater, and Music

January 12, 2016

I grew up in the Dale-Selby neighborhood of Saint Paul. To be more exact, we lived in the upstairs of a duplex just off the corner of Dayton and St. Albans, one block from Dale and one block from Selby.