I wanted to learn about a group called Border Angels that, among other things, sets out water in the desert areas of the 66-mile San Diego sector. Usually, gallon bottles of water are placed in blue plastic barrels topped with a blue flag at the end of a 30-foot pole or with a flashing red light like those used on bikes. Beginning in January 2002, the Border Angels also set up cold-weather stations in Cleveland National Forest in East County, with blankets, sleeping bags, clothing, food, and water.
By Stephen Dobyns, Dec. 7, 2006
Talk is what I'm hoping for, mostly. I want him to tell me about it. What is it like, that kind of madness? I'll tell him, as best I can, what it is like to drink the way I have and maybe some reasons why.
My friend Adrian and I approached the darkened North Park apartment, and I sensed something wrong. It was and is my own apartment, one I share with my 28-year-old son, Geoffrey. The hour was early, maybe 6:30 p.m., and we had cut our evening short after snacks and a bit of canvas-viewing at the galleries on Ray Street. A cardboard box sat at the doorstep in shadow.
By John Brizzolara, Nov. 22, 2006
William Thompson. In the 1970s and 1980s, the men would run into each other at pickup spots: Ferris and Ferris, a 24-hour drugstore; Prixie's Coffee Shop; Fifth Avenue's Pleasureland. According to Brown, Thompson "was looking for the same thing I was. Young boys."
The victim was William H. Thompson, an African American real estate developer, 61. Thompson had been stabbed 55 times in a bedroom of his Emerald Hills home. A blood trail also meant there was a "bleeder," from which Burritt hoped he could identify DNA that might lead to the killer. Intrigued, he went to the Central Library and consulted the newspaper bank. He read that Thompson was the owner and publisher of the San Diego Voice and Viewpoint, the only black-oriented daily in the city,
I wanted to learn about a group called Border Angels that, among other things, sets out water in the desert areas of the 66-mile San Diego sector. Usually, gallon bottles of water are placed in blue plastic barrels topped with a blue flag at the end of a 30-foot pole or with a flashing red light like those used on bikes. Beginning in January 2002, the Border Angels also set up cold-weather stations in Cleveland National Forest in East County, with blankets, sleeping bags, clothing, food, and water.
By Stephen Dobyns, Dec. 7, 2006
Talk is what I'm hoping for, mostly. I want him to tell me about it. What is it like, that kind of madness? I'll tell him, as best I can, what it is like to drink the way I have and maybe some reasons why.
My friend Adrian and I approached the darkened North Park apartment, and I sensed something wrong. It was and is my own apartment, one I share with my 28-year-old son, Geoffrey. The hour was early, maybe 6:30 p.m., and we had cut our evening short after snacks and a bit of canvas-viewing at the galleries on Ray Street. A cardboard box sat at the doorstep in shadow.
By John Brizzolara, Nov. 22, 2006
William Thompson. In the 1970s and 1980s, the men would run into each other at pickup spots: Ferris and Ferris, a 24-hour drugstore; Prixie's Coffee Shop; Fifth Avenue's Pleasureland. According to Brown, Thompson "was looking for the same thing I was. Young boys."
The victim was William H. Thompson, an African American real estate developer, 61. Thompson had been stabbed 55 times in a bedroom of his Emerald Hills home. A blood trail also meant there was a "bleeder," from which Burritt hoped he could identify DNA that might lead to the killer. Intrigued, he went to the Central Library and consulted the newspaper bank. He read that Thompson was the owner and publisher of the San Diego Voice and Viewpoint, the only black-oriented daily in the city,