Author - Rick Gile

Wolf Road in Albany has to be the busiest roadway in the entire Capital District. Stopping in the traffic and getting out of your car in that road is almost as dangerous as navigating the bread aisle at the Latham Hannaford the night before another Upstate New York snow storm. Yet, that’s what happened to us. We were threading our way through the traffic on our way to the Mall. Waiting for the light to change, sitting three lanes out in the middle of the road and preparing to turn left onto Sand Creek Road, was when I saw her in my rear-view mirror. The woman in the car behind us had exited her car, right on the double lines, and was walking toward us. I consider myself a fair...

My father-in-law immigrated from Ukraine in 1948. He quickly learned enough English to get a job. He would retain the heavy accent for the rest of his life. He and his young wife would soon settle in Amsterdam, buy a house and raise a family. All with no government assistance whatsoever. For the generation of immigrants that came to America, fleeing the aftereffects of war-torn Eastern Europe and the oppressive Stalin regime, hard work was not a stumbling block but rather a friend to be embraced. The man had an enviable way about him when it came to stress. I believe the reason behind that was the attitude that you made your own success. Rather than worry about being unemployed, he would...

I had been assigned to Fort Lee, Virginia, an Army Post, for Technical School after basic military training. The old WWII barracks was well maintained, thanks to those of us living there.  We all spent many hours on our hands and knees, scrubbing the bay floors with GI brushes.  Wax was applied with soft cloths and then buffed with handfuls of cotton balls.  You could literally see your face in those 20 year old, dark brown floors. Every footlocker was perfectly aligned with the base of the bunks, no clothes laying around or anything else out of place.  This was not “college dorm” living but a showplace of military discipline. The bunks surrounded the perimeter of the bay...

The dishwasher was humming away as we settled in to the family room after dinner.  It was summer and twilight had arrived.  All was quiet, so we decided to read for a while.  We both noticed the odd scratching sound at the same time.  Olga assumed that she had locked our cat outside.  The sound started and stopped, the repeated a few minutes later.  She then decided to see if the cat was at the door to the garage. I figured that we must have left the overhead door open when we got home from work.  She proceeded to open the door to let the cat in.  Right on the two steps leading to the inside door, standing on his back legs, was a white skunk with a black stripe on its back.  Having...

It all starts early on the Saturday morning before Easter and continues until well after the sun has set.  My Ukrainian wife will begin to prepare the array of goodies that we will enjoy the following day after church. This poses an interesting menagerie of food.  Included are the usual springtime assortment of salads containing my favorite food groups, potatoes and macaroni, but the best part is all that mayonnaise.  Nothing quite compares to that soybean oil and raw egg concoction to add healthy favors to almost anything that’s edible.  None of that low-fat stuff either.  We like the artery-clogging, cholesterol-popping “real” mayonnaise.  I can even tolerate okra...