Projects I'm Working On


 Mealtime at Camp Hollis, circa 1948.

Mealtime at Camp Hollis, circa 1948.

In 1928, Dr. LeRoy Hollis, of Sandy Creek, New York, opened a campgrounds for children at risk of developing tuberculosis (a disease with no known cure at the time). Dr. Hollis chose a plot of land on the shores of Lake Ontario in the town of Oswego. The health camp closed in 1941, to be reopened in 1946 by Judge Eugene Sullivan, who named it Camp Hollis. Sullivan’s camp originally served children in orphanages, those who’d been in trouble with the law, and members of needy families. Years later, the camp was open to all children in Oswego County. In honor of the 75th anniversary of Camp Hollis, in 2021, I’m currently researching and writing the full history of the camp affectionally known as the “Little Haven on the Lake.”


COMING SOON: MY MUSIC BLOG!

Music Book

I recently attended at class titled “Writing Your Obsessions.” The teacher helped us identify and clarify the topics that we writers keep returning to. For me, the music I grew up with — the songs of the 1960s and ‘70s — is an endless source of inspiration for my writing. In 2019, I’ll be launching a blog that will explore those great songs, one at a time, as I reflect on the impact they had on me and on our evolving world. Information on how to check out my blog and join in the fun will be available soon.


Poems for My Dad.

 My father in his work as a mechanical engineer

My father in his work as a mechanical engineer

The relationship we build with a parent is one of the most powerful experiences we will ever have. My dad passed away in 2011, and in the last five years of his life he was faced with many challenging medical conditions. As I witnessed Dad's steady decline, I often turned to poetry to come to terms with what he was going through. At the same time, I was revisiting the highs and lows of our relationship and poetry helped me come to some resolution concerning that, as well. I'm putting the finishing touches on a book of those poems, which I believe speaks to the universal experience of watching a parent leave us.