The elevator doors opened, and there he was. It was as if it were the most natural thing of all for my deceased father to visit me in my downtown office. He looked at once old and wise and youthful and carefree. He grinned from ear to ear upon seeing me. After a kiss, he Read More…
I’m wired like my mother was, a little jittery in the best of times. But her anxiety during difficult times seemed to subside when she was either taking photos or working in the photography lab where she long worked. I believe photography was something that gave her life meaning. It got her through some of Read More…
My daughter is the one who first told me about Schitt’s Creek. Do you really think I’ll like it? I asked. It seemed a silly premise for a TV show, an over-the-top rich family losing their money and moving to a motel in a small town. “I promise you, Mom,” she said. “You’ll love it.” Read More…
Today is World AIDS Day. Every December 1 since 1988 has been designated as such to mourn those lost to the disease and to raise awareness. To date, more than 30 million have died as a result of AIDS. Some of those who died in the early years of the epidemic left behind children who Read More…
On Dec. 9, 1941, two days after Japanese forces bombed Pearl Harbor, my father’s army unit at Fort Ord in Monterey caravanned to remote areas of northern California to guard railway bridges from similar bombing attacks. Here he is in Keddie in the Feather River Canyon where his unit was patrolling the Keddie Wye, a Read More…
“Don’t be sad,” he told me. It was World AIDS Day 2018. I was attending an event in the National AIDS Memorial Grove in Golden Gate Park. We were there to honor not only those lost to AIDS but also the children left behind. A member of the Grove’s Board of Directors sat next to Read More…
One of them is my cousin, Will Hall, born in March of 1971. The other was my dad, Ralph Hall, born in March of 1918. Both came out at the age of 19. Will stayed out. The span of five-plus decades between their births made all the difference. Still, they both knew from a young age Read More…
I’ve been struggling to express something about my dad that’s been bubbling up inside me this past year. I’ve swatted away the whispers, but it’s now a roar. Today, Father’s Day, I’m giving it a voice. So, here goes: I’m happy my dad stayed in the house with our family until the end. I can’t Read More…
Dr. Nisha Gupta, a psychotherapist, has produced a cinematic poem about being in the closet. It’s called “illuminate.” Nisha is a friend of mine. When I first clicked Play to watch “illuminate,” I wasn’t expecting to learn anything new about my father. After all, he came out to me in 1975. Our conversations would span another three decades Read More…
My father was born on March 15th, 1918, one hundred years ago yesterday. March 15th is also The Ides of March, a tragi-drama birthright Dad enjoyed claiming. He died at 90. I haven’t written much about his girlfriends, but his earliest photo album, which I still have, is peppered with their photos. Before he came out Read More…
