childhood

My Father’s Eulogy

My father passed away on January 2nd of this year. I’ve had several posts in mind but haven’t had the energy to put them down. This is the eulogy I read at his service. Maybe this will help me sleep a little better until I can get something better down. My parents visited the Vatican

A 1980 Tampa Tribune Article Featuring My Father on Parenting

By BESS ADAMS COLEMAN “With my 5-year-old son, I’m experiencing the greatest love affair I’ve ever had,” said 31-year-old Thom Stork. “There are lots of rocky roads, no question about it, but you can say that I’ve really found my child. I’ll freely admit that for four years he was there and I loved him

Catholic School made me a Sinner

I put in twelve years of Catholic school… I was released on my own recognizance but served parole under the watchful eyes of a Baptist college. You could say I was “institutionalized” and feared life on the outside. Twelve years of a regulated wardrobe can have a lasting effect if they occur between five and

I never got many Gold Medals – But I used to make them.

I once quit a job without giving two weeks’ notice. I quit after my lunch break. The boss wasn’t surprised at all. I think she even wondered why it took so long like it was a bet amongst the bosses. Each day that went by with me still on the line was another nickel in

My childhood “Boy named Sue” moment

In grade school, we wore navy blue pants and white dress shirts. The boys had triangular collars, while the girls wore the rounded ones that little Catholic school girls wear. There was an unfortunate era when my sister and I wore the same size shirt even though we were two years apart. And, of course,

And it only cost a quarter

Jesuit high school. All-boys. Shirt and tie. A Beanie for freshmen, Catholic guilt baked into the curriculum. Everyone else had cars or rides or parents with flexible schedules. I had the city bus. The H.A.R.T. Line. Hillsborough Area Regional Transit. Big red heart logo, which, after a few sunburned summers, faded to a kind of

My theme park – My babysitter

I grew up in the theme park Busch Gardens and its water park sister, Adventure Island. They were my babysitters. They were my Grandma’s house. They were home. They were where I went when school was out for the summer, where I went when I was too sick for school or where I went when

Scroll to Top