Like so many of my generation, my family grew up struggling a bit. I was born at 844 East College Street, near the old A&P store, just down from the Aeneas Center. My dad was in the service and retired as Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force. Back then, the people of Jackson took care of each other, cared for those who couldn’t care for themselves, and helped families stay together and self-reliant. There were government programs to help, but we relied more on ourselves and our neighbors. I believe we were better off for it.

A Taste of Thailand

I woke up to a phone call around nine in the morning; my friend’s neighbor’s grandmother’s employee had just quit his job, and they needed someone to come in immediately. Naturally, I was next in line. I drove across town to a strip mall I had never seen before and wandered into an unmarked restaurant where I was greeted by two golden lions, the king of Thailand (who was placing a call on an old brick phone), and a particularly satisfied Buddha.

Home Is Where the Soup Is

In his essay collection Heretics, G.K. Chesterton extols, “Once men sang around a table together in chorus. Now one man sings alone, for the absurd reason he can sing better.” In other words, as our scientific age has grown in competency and achievement we have become isolated from the rootedness which gave rise to our confidence in the first place—experts in everything but being human. Can there be any question this is more true today than when Chesterton wrote almost a century ago?