*This column is dedicated to my Grandmama Jacqueline. May she rest in peace. On Halloween night in 1950, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, five big-hearted children started knocking on complete strangers’ doors. They were hoping to collect money to send to their “peers” in post-World War II Europe. They walked from house to house chatting with...
Sacha Vais
A stinky wonderful vacation
Just finished watching the sun rise over the Brudenell River. It arrived in fifty shades of golden. I am in eastern Prince Edward Island, a part of the world affectionately known as Canada’s “Million Acre Farm.” I am in heaven. A heron drinks water and watches me. It drinks and watches for a long,...
Coming to terms with terms (or, Disability is a four-letter word)
My father contracted polio as a child, and lost the ability to develop much muscle in his legs. He either walks with a brace and canes, or uses a wheelchair, depending on how he’s feeling and where he’s going. When I was a teenager, and started experiencing panic attacks and agoraphobia, I felt like...
Flirting with disaster
It happened on a Wednesday in my city. I was nine years old. The rifle he used is called a Sturm-Ruger Mini-14, the same weapon used by the heroes in the 1980s TV show The A-Team. Although it normally comes with a five-bullet magazine, a larger one can be attached. He attached one that...
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