I like those old Coleman magazine ads where the kids stand by the stream with fishing poles, reeling in trout; Mom kneels near the picnic basket, driving in tent stakes;…
Married for eighteen years, John Morgan is the father of two boys, ages twelve and ten. He teaches creative writing and British Literature at St. Catherine’s School. Other than words, he loves vintage drums, cars, and Ringo Starr’s backbeat. Follow him on Twitter @johnlmorganiv.
On a special December Saturday in 1983, Dad woke up early to warm up the Toyota. By seven o’clock, my sister Susan and I were inside the car. Then, we…
The summer of 1986 meant riding my Schwinn Thrasher eight blocks to Lafayette Pharmacy where I cashed in my nickels for a bag of assorted Jolly Ranchers. The loot cost…
Three years ago, I drove to North Carolina, met a stranger through Craigslist, and brought home a Boston terrier puppy. That was the breed of our dog years ago, so…
Our 1972 Toyota Corona station wagon lived a tough life when I was a kid. From the factory, it came with an AM radio and no AC. How much fun…
Atticus, you need a sport.” “Is rock ‘n roll a sport?” We were having a bedtime conversation. But before I answered, I thought about Mick and Keith, who still throw…
Dad, I want to go to Diamonds Direct.” “Why?” “Because I need a crystal to make a lightsaber.” The engine of any Jedi’s sword is a special gemstone that bottles…
There is something about a true story that pulls on us, especially one that tells the tale of Richmond’s own. Bruce Miller’s Buffalo Soldier, playing at Virginia Rep’s Children’s Theater at…
As a cadet at VMI, fall made me anxious. While others were tidying up the frat house or skipping that first-period seminar, I was sprinting back to barracks and diving…
When I was seven, a wizard came to our house after school one Wednesday. He messed with a few wires, and then handed me a remote control the size of…
