A childhood fire took my brother Brian and left behind memories I carried for years. My mother was burned trying to reach him, while I was left with fragments of that night and a recurring dream that made me question what I remembered. The Fire I Didn’t Forget is about loss, memory, childhood guilt, and eventually finding peace.
Kendra left Ocean City for Arizona, and I thought our relationship was over. Then came a birthday phone call, a three-day bus ride, and a reunion I’ll never forget.
Fixing computers before Google existed meant learning things differently. There was a time when getting a bunch of computers to talk to each other was almost as much fun as the game we were trying to play. At least that’s how I remember it. This was before high-speed Internet was something everyone had at home….
I remember when pieces of the Sindia shipwreck were still visible from the Ocean City beach. More than a century after the ship ran aground, its remains are now buried beneath the sand—but the stories, legends and memories surrounding it remain.
September 11 Ocean City NJ is a memory I will never forget—not only because of what happened that morning, but because of exactly where I was when the world changed. For me, September 11, 2001 began with the surf. The waves in Ocean City were enormous that morning. I remember faces approaching ten feet on…
Ocean City isn’t only a summer town. One snowy winter, we grabbed the kids’ bodyboards and headed for the boardwalk—not to ride waves, but to turn a snow-covered boardwalk ramp into our neighborhood sledding hill.
I was standing in the alley behind Voltaco’s when I watched a stranger drive away in Joe’s truck, staring directly at me. Seconds later, Joe came running out and told me a man had put a shotgun in his face. One ordinary closing night in Ocean City had suddenly become a story I’d never forget.
Growing up in Ocean City, New Jersey meant living in a true year-round beach town. This isn’t a story about disliking the shore—it’s about remembering the community that raised me and reflecting on how every hometown changes with time.
My 1996 Ford Ranger was supposed to be a simple old truck I could drive and enjoy. Instead, it turned into overheating problems, questionable previous repairs, months in the shop, and a repair bill that would make plenty of people walk away. But I’m fixing it anyway. (Update 8/24/26 Sill in the shop, mechanic says…
One innocent question, twelve terminal windows, an old Dell with a new job, and somehow cow ghee. A look at what happens when “I’m just going to check one thing” turns into another completely unnecessary adventure.
