“My duties as a father are just about done.” Those words were spoken by my boss, Kyu-Pal Choi, as we sat in his office on Friday afternoon, March 18, 2011. He said them because his daughter, In-Sung, would be tying the knot on...
Since I grew up in Texas, in the south-central part of the United States, I could only dream of visiting such distant and exotic places as the Eiffel Tower in Paris, Easter Island in the South Pacific, Machu Picchu in Peru, the Taj Mahal in...
A couple of years ago, one of my brothers admitted with only the slightest embarrassment that he had not read a book since graduating from high school. His diploma was bestowed in 1976. In spite of that fact, he has done well. He lives in a...
The following article appeared in the Austin American-Statesman on December 23, 2006 under the headline “Religious identity is no mystery.” The newspaper was then running a series in which readers were asked to contribute...
In February 2011, I was back in Texas for the second time since moving to Korea. At the baggage pickup area of the Austin airport, I saw an imposing statue of Barbara Jordan. When the facility opened in 1999, the passenger terminal was...
I met Brian Ullom in 1982 under circumstances that seemed to bode poorly for both of us. I was a dishwasher at the Capital Oyster Bar, and he worked for a small company that did cleanup of several establishments in central Austin. Perhaps five...
I was still a neophyte traveler when Dr. Nasser Al-Rashid’s attorney, Curly Ferris, began dispatching me hither and yon to do interviews for what resulted in Coming to Texas / International Students at the University of Texas. If they...
Jill Montgomery and I were sitting at her kitchen table, talking about one thing or another. She was gazing at her backyard when she said, as much to herself as to me, “I sure would like to get rid of all that bamboo.” Now what...
This is a tale about history, culture and petty vandalism in Austin, Texas. Come with me back to 1976, the year of the American bicentennial. A recent college graduate, I was driving a delivery car—a red Ford mini-truck, to be...
The fact that I am a Dallas native has surely made me more attentive to the assassination of President John F. Kennedy than I might have been otherwise. I was 10 years old on November 22, 1963, a fifth-grade student at Hexter Elementary...
My best days as a marathoner were in the past, I realized that. My PR (personal record) had taken place more than five years earlier, in the 1992 San Antonio Marathon where I had a time of 2 hours, 42 minutes, 48 seconds, and came in 15th...
If the truth is told, most families have elements of sadness and/or sorrow. Mine is no exception. One hush-hush story pertained to my father. He was driving to work on a dark and foggy morning in 1955 when his car hit a newspaper boy. He died...
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