Scott Graber
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A great ride and fabulous fiction
By Scott Graber It is Saturday, and I’m in Port Royal. It is brisk this morning, but I have a long-sleeved wool shirt and…
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I have no memory of those years
By Scott Graber “On the morning of August 5, as soon as the rain stops, Tibbets’ plane, which has been named the Enola Gay…
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Wanted: Research project for disappearing island
By Scott Graber it is Wednesday, and this morning I’m at the “Snow Hole,” just off the Taconic Crest Trail as it runs along…
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I know now what sophistry means
By Scott Graber It is Monday and I’m at the Eclipse Mill in North Adams, Mass. It is early; Susan is still sleeping, I’ve…
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Nothing is ever easy in Africa
By Scott Graber It is Tuesday morning, and we’re in Edenton, N.C. This morning I’m sitting at an iron table — waiting on a…
