Dear Tamir Rice, Your Life Really DID Matter.
January 5, 2016
Dear Tamir, You were just 18 months older than my son, Noah. He has the same brilliant light in his eyes that I see in yours; the kind with all the promise
Dear Tamir, You were just 18 months older than my son, Noah. He has the same brilliant light in his eyes that I see in yours; the kind with all the promise
“Dad, are you and mom Santa?” The words surprised even myself when they came flying out of my fourth grade mouth there in the storeroom of my father’s small town shoe
My kids are selfish, narcissistic jerks. There I said it. Case in point: It was 7AM. My wife had only forty-five minutes earlier headed out of town on business, but not before
The cliché is familiar to most of us: a steel jawed, gun wielding, bicep exposing father, sending the intimidating message to all young male suitors hoping to date his precious princess—that this
Dear Tamir, You were just 18 months older than my son, Noah. He has the same brilliant light in his eyes that I see in yours; the kind with all the promise
“Dad, are you and mom Santa?” The words surprised even myself when they came flying out of my fourth grade mouth there in the storeroom of my father’s small town shoe
My kids are selfish, narcissistic jerks. There I said it. Case in point: It was 7AM. My wife had only forty-five minutes earlier headed out of town on business, but not before
The cliché is familiar to most of us: a steel jawed, gun wielding, bicep exposing father, sending the intimidating message to all young male suitors hoping to date his precious princess—that this