
The Senate Post Office Playground
A young boy tags along to the U.S. Senate Post Office at 2:00 AM, discovers rubber stamps, hole punches, and the thrill of riding the Senate subway.
From the Journals

A young boy tags along to the U.S. Senate Post Office at 2:00 AM, discovers rubber stamps, hole punches, and the thrill of riding the Senate subway.

A six-year-old's paradise: comic books, milkshakes on professional mixers, and early-morning breakfasts with the drugstore cowboys of Mesa.

Pre-freeway, pre-seatbelt odysseys from D.C. to Mesa, powered by baloney sandwiches, breakdown detours, and endless questions whispered into Dad's ear.

When Washington snow hit hard enough, the D.C. Police barricaded the street and the whole neighborhood came out for barrel fires, sled runs, and a block party in the dark.

Cold War duck-and-cover drills, a multi-color pencil that took weeks of saving, and the daily ritual of pretending not to peek during nap time.



Two teenage boys work through the night clearing a vacant lot, haul boxes into the attic, vacuum the closet unprompted, and earn a civilized dinner at Wendy's.


Twenty-seven years after Great-Grandpa Clifford's death, Chandler dedicated a brand new elementary school in his name, and eight-year-old Matthias preserved his own Sunday School talk in Dad's journal.