Hot summer days come with an eerie silence that remind J.P. Devine of Sundays in his early childhood in St. Louis.
J.P. Devine
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J.P. Devine: Include me out of hotel stay
Travel is a nightmare, and hotels are the monsters in those bad dreams, J.P. Devine writes.
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J.P. Devine: The tie’s the thing that’s telling about a candidate
J.P. Devine takes a gander at the neckwear of the current crop of male presidential candidates, but as yet finds no bolo ties.
Posted inColumns, J.P. Devine, Local & State
J.P. Devine: Life is a drag
The recent confrontation in downtown Waterville over a drag queen story hour for children drew metaphorical spears and rattles, the latest in a fabulous tradition of performances, J.P. Devine writes.
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J.P. Devine: Home is the sailor
A tribute to the old man, the officer of the day, ‘your father,’ Pop.
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J.P. Devine: In search of his Mainah identity
How I got here, how I left, how I came back, and how I finally stayed.
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J.P. Devine: And then he was gone
A memoir of the assassination of Bobby Kennedy, who for a brief moment in time and on this night stood in the silver light, poised to step into history.
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On the Edge: Remembering an heirloom for Memorial Day
It wasn’t much of a soccer ball, J.P. Devine writes, grass-stained and bruised, but it had been passed on from cousin to cousin and from brother to brother and bore the imprint of memory and association.
Posted inColumns, J.P. Devine, Local & State
J.P. Devine: May Day 1952, the Movie
J.P. Devine writes about an occupier’s view of a Japanese riot, or how best to avoid the animosity of a mob and embrace the discretion of a big guy.
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J.P. Devine: The woman I’m calling today
No matter where he happened to be in his travels, J.P. Devine always had a bucketful of change to dump into a pay phone to call his mother on Mother’s Day.