ESSAY: The Things I Carry

ESSAY: The Things I Carry

When my mom died, in 2015, I was faced with a decision—or rather, a multitude of decisions: what to retrieve from her house—my childhood home—and what to leave behind. Some decisions were relatively easy. I wished I could take her piano, which she taught me to play...
ESSAY:Tangled Up in Blue 

ESSAY:Tangled Up in Blue 

NO EASY BEAT: Tom Robotham’s “backstage/all access pass” to the frontlines of NYC’s crime and fire scenes in the late 1970s.    By Tom Robotham Recently on Facebook, I saw a meme asserting that there’s no such thing as a good cop: they’re either dirty, clean but...
ESSAY: The Things I Carry

ESSAY: Powerless

  By Tom Robotham On the morning of September 30, when hurricane Ian started to make its presence felt in Norfolk, I was watching CNN’s coverage of the devastation in Florida. Since my oldest friend lives in Fort Myers—ground zero, as it turned out—I was worried...
ESSAY: Young and Free

ESSAY: Young and Free

(My childhood home, shortly before my family moved in, in 1959.)  By Tom Robotham  During this summer’s heatwave, when I stayed home as much as possible, I spent a few afternoons binge-watching The Andy Griffith Show. I loved the program when it aired in primetime,...
ESSAY: The Things I Carry

ESSAY: In My Travels

By Tom Robotham This summer, for the first time in a long while, I haven’t ventured outside of Hampton Roads. There are a number of reasons for that, a tight budget chief among them. If all goes well, I’ll wander farther afield in 2023. Meanwhile, I’m moved to reflect...
ESSAY: The Things I Carry

ESSAY: This Old Man

  By Tom Robotham Well, it’s official: I’m an old man.  I could have claimed that status last year, when I turned 65—the age at which one traditionally earns the title of senior citizen. But this year, I passed a more significant milestone: a week before my...