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Our shabby little houses look like conjoined twins inexpertly separated. Her family’s house got the worst of the porch, ours got the sagging gutters. Read the rest of this entry »

Halfway down the block from where we had just seen Uncle Mickey, Dad stopped the car and sat with his foot on the brake. He’d been crying, I think, Read the rest of this entry »

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Behind the Pseudonym

The pen name davidbdale honors my mother Beatrice (Bea) and my father Dale

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