Nearly nine years ago I was sitting in a terminal at Boston’s Logan Airport waiting for a flight to California. It was the first day of flights since they’d closed the place down on 9/11. I’ve never been an enthusiastic flier, but that day I was more than anxious. The broadcast images of destruction, the mug shots of terrorists: I was sure it would happen again. I was scared to death it would happen again. I’d left two kids at home in bed.
Articles by Dave Grishaw-Jones
Reclaiming The Flag
A couple months ago, I opened an unexpected package from a parishioner serving now in the Persian Gulf. It was an American flag, folded neatly, an expression of her gratitude. The certificate said she’d flown it in a combat mission over Iraq on Christmas Day, 2009.
One Another’s Burdens
One son’s ailing father reminds him to take a different look at the health care debate.
Overthrowing The Pyramids of Callousness
Proposition 8 would just make Jesus mad.
