-
By Sarah E. Murphy When I first read about – and later heard – the ignorant, hateful “Lock her up!” chants directed at our former First Lady and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, it was eerily reminiscent of an incident I experienced in junior high. It was 1985. I was thirteen years old, a seventh-grader…
-
By Sarah E. Murphy I wrote the following poem in the fall of 1989, when I was 17, a senior in Mike Rainnie’s poetry class at Falmouth High School. Although my deserted neighborhood of Falmouth Heights in the 70s and 80s was a ghost town, Halloween was still a major event in our family. My…
-
By Sarah E. Murphy The first time I ever heard about my great-aunt Margaret Matthews, I assumed she was the namesake of my mother, Margaret Ann, the only girl in a family of three boys. “Oh no,” my mom said, when I asked her one day while staring at Margaret’s photo. “I was named for…


