You belong among the wildflowersYou belong somewhere close to me As Tom Petty’s tender ballad, “Wildflowers,” wafted through the gentle evening breeze, Ali and Emily welcomed me and her father to the dance floor at their wedding reception on our sloping front lawn. Could there be a more lyrical wedding anthem for this young couple? …
I can’t get the catchy lyrics of “Delta Dawn” out of my head, and it’s been months since writers serenaded a surprised Wade Rouse at the close of the 2024 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop. The impromptu, rousing sing-along capped the most highly rated conference in our history. It was one of those serendipitous, pop-up moments …
(In honor of Father’s Day. An excerpt from One Heart with Courage: Essays and Stories.) Father Jim Fitz carried his vestments into my family’s church on a humid July morning to help celebrate the life of my father, a man he had never met. A longtime colleague of mine at the University of Dayton, Father …
At your first birthday party, your Uncle Ali took one look at your blue frosting-smeared face and exclaimed, “Eli, are you full of pizza, blueberries, cupcake — and love?” When he learned of your impending birth, he and Aunt Emily made plans to move from Brooklyn to Cincinnati to be closer to family, but we …
(In loving memory of Zia Haider Rizvi. Reprinted from One Heart with Courage.) It’s no wonder that a record-low number of Pakistanis turned out for the February 1997 parliamentary elections: Having nine prime ministers in 10 years has taken its toll on even the most optimistic of Pakistan’s 130 million citizens. Nawaz Sharif, dismissed as …
In an inspirational keynote talk, Marta Kauffman, one of the hottest names in comedy writing, shared life lessons and a few backstories with more than 200 humor writers at “Get Your Funny On! The Virtual Erma.”
We’re busy building a bigger tent at the University of Dayton, creating space for every member of our campus community. That’s never more evident than at Culture Fest, where the colorful flags from 75 countries flanked the sides of a massive white tent and flapped in the late-afternoon breeze.
Morning has broken like the first morning/Blackbird has spoken like the first bird/Praise for the singing, praise for the morning/Praise for them springing fresh from the world. A faint blush of blue and pink appears in the early morning sky on this crisp, still February morning, your first full day of life. I let the …
Bev Strukamp showed up at our 50th (gulp!) St. Chris eighth grade reunion in a telltale plaid skirt reminiscent of our long-ago school days. “I told Sister Lou Ann that my white blouse with the Peter Pan collar was in the wash and to please not send me home,” she told us as we burst …
It felt like a rebirth. As writers from near and far streamed into the Marriott hotel on a glorious fall afternoon, they spontaneously hugged one another. I heard squeals of recognition as newcomers swallowed their nerves and introduced themselves to those they “met” on the private attendee Facebook page or in the chat bar during …