By SEAN DIETRICH This isn’t my story, it’s his. He talked, I listened. And I tried to quiet the skeptic who lives inside my brain. The tale takes...
Sean Dietrich Articles
Andy
By SEAN DIETRICH Early evening. My mother-in-law (Mother Mary) and I are watching the Andy Griffith Show. We are whistling along with the opening...
YOU
By SEAN DIETRICH Out of the seven billion people in this world, I saw you. It was yesterday. You let a lady cut in line at the supermarket. An...
The Georgia Story
By Sean Dietrich DEAR SEAN: Do you ever write anything not about gooey, syrupy love? Thanks, MARK-IN-ATLANTA DEAR MARK: I have a story for you. It...
An Average American Love Story
By By Sean Dietrich They were good together. That’s what everyone said about them. Their schoolmates said it. Their friends said it. Their parents...
The Rose
By Sean Dietrich The house where I was born was trimmed in roses. It was a clapboard home, previously owned by a retired World War II veteran. The...
The Dance
By Sean Dietrich “Will the room please settle down before the dance begins?!” says Gary to the elderly crowd in the nursing home cafeteria. “Simmer...
Eggs and Bacon
By Sean Dietrich I was a young man. Four of us guys walked into an average Florida Panhandle Waffle House before sunrise. We did this every morning...
Chicken Salad
By Sean Dietrich The elderly man at the deli counter was undecided. He looked at the lineup of cold salads behind the glass divider with a serious...