I almost died at Red River Gorge when I was 17. My friend, Michutzel Roberto Giglio, and I crashed through a guard rail on a rainy night. Our car plunged 65 feet to the bottom of a ravine, splitting the boulder on which it landed. On the way down, I yell
I have hearing loss. My right ear serves only for purposes of ornamentation. In 2005 I went into the Atlantic Ocean and came out with only my left ear working. I'm not alone in this condition. A colleague, a very able reporter in town, likewise went into
The Greater Cincinnati Coalition for the Homeless, where I work, likes to say it's an advocacy organization, distinguishing itself from agencies that provide direct service to clients. The distinction is valid, except for the fact that the Homeless Coali
Frank Leonhartsberger used to scream in his sleep. I knew this from my mother, who lived with him for a while. Born in Allentown, Pa., to immigrant parents, his father died when he was 3 years old. His mother took him back to her family home in Austria,
