My family invaded Holland in June, 1964. I have heard that The Beatles invaded America that year, too, but I had no idea who they were and probably would not have cared had I known. At four years old, I cared only for the ice cream freezer in the lobby of the old hotel we took rooms in, the cheese-man and his horse, the walk-in … Continue reading Huis Ter Heide
The house I wrote of yesterday stayed with me all day; I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I had intended a completely different point, about how we tear people down much easier than we build them up – people we disagree with, for example. We’ll stand in line to pick people apart for their flaws and shortcomings, their tastes, their politics, their looks. … Continue reading Home. All of Them
It bothered me well into my teenage years that I didn’t have a hometown. It bothered me when a classmate or friend proudly defended his state, or touted his state’s greatness. It bothered me, too, when I heard or read of a state celebrating a native-born citizen for an achievement. I felt jealous that my friends had a place they could call their hometown, a … Continue reading My Hometown
The Writings of William C. Pennington 