The house I wrote of yesterday stayed with me all day; I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I had intended a completely different point, about how we tear people down much easier than we build them up – people we disagree with, for example. We’ll stand in line to pick people apart for their flaws and shortcomings, their tastes, their politics, their looks. We generally stand by though and ignore people on the way up. We expect people to be self-sufficient and ‘make it’ on their own. Let them cross some shadowy line between tolerance and intolerance though, and it’s as if we suddenly view them as a threat to our stable world-view. A few words into the Old, Old House though, I found my mind going in a different direction.
Easter Sunday, Amersfoort 1966, Me, Sally, Marianne, Toni
I’m an Air Force Brat and career Navy Sailor, and…
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