By Sarah E. Murphy School night snowstorms  were the highlight of those long, dark winters. Dad was a misguided meteorologist  with only the best intentions. When he professed “there’ll be no school tomorrow!”  with cheerful certainty  we could plan  on the screech and halt  of the bus flying down Grand Ave so we learned early…

By James F. Murphy Jr. (1932-2015) Intro by Sarah E. Murphy Write what you know. It’s what my father always told his students, but I always reiterated to him, for I believe his best writing is autobiographical. His words had an elegant cadence, full of rich description and poetic alliteration, no matter the subject. He…