Excerpt from Sunday lesson by Dick Elam, circa January 1983 I know something of storms at sea. We were sailing in the Neuse River with shores less than a mile away. Ten mile winds, threatening clouds, but no rain. So gentle that our eight-year old grandson steered our boat, following the wake of a sailboat about 50 yards ahead. Then the thunderstorm struck. Taking the helm, we sent our grandson below. Driving rain swept across
My own jailer
In 1995 we spent four months in Ekaterinburg Russia where we lived in a two-room apartment. We were cautioned by our Russian landlord “Don’t open the door to anyone you don’t know. Not even if you look through the peep hole and they are wearing a uniform. Criminals have disguised themselves as a militia to break into apartments.” So when we entered our apartment, we unlocked a steel door and then unlocked a bolt
AIDA
My sweatshirt—a Christmas present from an irreverent daughter—says “I Used to Teach, Now I Have No Class”. Words remind that a former student telephoned me at home one Saturday night. He remembered that I recruited a half-dozen students then led a march between the aisles, clapping my hands together, and humming the march from an opera. “Professor Elam, I’m calling from outside Chapel Hill. I’m standing here with another member of that class. You wanted
Begin the Blog
In the 1930s, Will Rogers wrote a syndicated front page three-paragraph daily memoir. Will told us where he traveled, whom he met, and how our world was going. Will was not only a comedian and movie star. He was America’s home-spun philosopher. Still known for his “I never met a man I didn’t like.” Today, Will’s column probably would be called a “blog.” He would take his readers traveling down memory’s lane.