Robert Skydell
The day before we fled and went into hiding we trashed the house.
It was May 4, 1970 when the unthinkable happened. It’s preserved as a single searing image: a young woman, semi-kneeling before a man lying face down on the pavement.
Having the entire summer off on Martha’s Vineyard sounds like a dream come true to most people, but not so much for me.
The nation and the world seemed to be caught up in continual strife, conflict and despair that never let up.
An email from a Vineyard friend arrived letting me know that he, his wife and their two young daughters would be vacationing in Nicaragua.
I’ve been thinking a lot about movies lately. Well, not movies actually, but going to the movies. Big difference.