Five Things: Best Summer, Immigrant Kids, Drugs, Nazis, Big Tobacco

Your Sunday Morning starts here.

On Monday morning I ironed some of my shirts and some of my wife’s blouses.

Every time I iron my shirts, I think of my mother, who taught me how to iron shirts. I always do it the same way, the way she taught me. And each and every time I iron, I think of her.

My mother died 30 years ago last Monday, on September 18, 1993.

I never take my shirts to the d…