I was just a kid when Dad bought the Four Pines Motel. He called it a "diamond in the rough," but I couldn't see much promise in the shabby building with the mint green paint peeling off the siding ... [+]

Melanie waved at the reporter when he stepped into the coffee shop. Sipping her jasmine tea, she took in his lean frame. He looked so much younger, unmasked.    "Thank you again for speaking ... [+]

Tomorrow will mark a year since I had my stroke. It's an occasion that, according to my daughter, Ginny, I should view as important. But I've spent enough time staring at death; I don't want to think ... [+]