By Ted Furlow
I rang in the year 2000 at a neighborhood restaurant, standing outside at midnight looking at the foggy streetscape and wondering what the future had in store. It is unique enough to see a new century, but shepherding in a new millennium was a privilege.
By Ted Furlow
Above my desk at home I have a display box containing my Boy Scout medals. Nestled just below my Eagle Scout and my Ad Altare Dei medals are two Marksmanship medals from the National Rifle Association (NRA). I am proud of all of them and the achievement that they represent.
By Ted Furlow
It was a forgettable TV movie about a boy trying out for a junior hockey team in small town Canada; he was the new kid in town, an outlier on the team, and the script was very predictable. The only redeeming part of the movie was the coach’s insistence that the game of hockey wasn’t played on the ice, but was actually played in your head.
By Ted Furlow
David died while we were on vacation. He and his wife were “church friends,” sharing the same front quadrant of pews where we have sat for years. They met in South America, she is Argentinian and he was from the Midwest. At 6’4” he towered over her, but she is a feisty, funny lady who takes no prisoners in any conversation, and they had a very unique and open relationship. We shared many Sunday mornings at coffee and donuts in our parish hall, talking about life, grandkids, and future retirements.
By Ted Furlow
In the late 1960’s, my girlfriend - soon to be fiancé, and then current wife for 47 years - gave me a copy of Carl Rogers’ book, “On Becoming a Person.” The book is a classic about “person” development and behavior, and even today it is a “must read.” At that time it was experiencing an initial surge in popularity.
