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My husband Whit and I slipped into a back pew just as the minister directed all to rise, open hymnals, and sing. After lumbering through thr...
Author archives: Laura Wainwright
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“I’m setting the alarm for midnight,” my husband Whit whispered as I came out of our children’s tiny bedroom and latched the narrow door b...
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Menemsha 1993, Alison Shaw
The summer I turned eight, my father insisted I go sailing with him and Mrs. Gilchrest. In July the three of u...