Len Shindel Archives - Baltimore Post-ExaminerBaltimore Post-Examiner

 Fingers

Raspy cough, white bathrobe, fingers reaching for your ivory coffee mug, red lipstick on the rim, fingers, slender and strong like vice grips, nails stripped of polish, fingers, so many years before pressing a cold washcloth against my fevered forehead. […]

 Fingers

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Raspy cough, white bathrobe, fingers reaching for your ivory coffee mug, red lipstick on the rim, fingers, slender and strong like vice grips, nails stripped of polish, fingers, so many years before pressing a cold washcloth against my fevered forehead. […]

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Mill Memorabilia

Feature photo: Members of United Steelworkers Local 2609 at Bethlehem Steel’s Sparrows Point Plant hold a “tailgate” meeting at Penwood Field across from the plant’s hot rolling mill to

Buddy Bantum

I began working at Bethlehem Steel’s Sparrows Point Plant in 1973. I had graduated high school in 1968 in Connecticut and attended George Washington University for one year before

Bernie

Photo used under a Creative Commons license from flickr user Jasperdo  In the 1970s, I was living in Waverly, near the old Memorial Stadium. The city neighborhood was nearly all

Mac

Mac peered over his machine. His frantic foreman missed the wiser-than-you’ll-ever-be smile.   Mac was never disrespectful. But nobody messed with Shop Steward Billy McGuire, WWII U.S. Army Veteran.   I caught the big guy’s dry smile myself, radical know-it-all I

Coalescence

I peel leaf-colored clumps from my shovel. The clay carries memories, art class, wonders of the kiln, the rabbi’s head on a silver dish atop my grandmother’s mahogany table, forever pliable and moist, sculptures adorning the

We’ll Be Fine

The presidential scholar drips delicate fingers down his chin. With smooth, white, Ivy-infused certitude, he promises. Our institutions are strong. We will be just fine.   Let’s hope, the anchor replies, profusely praising his brilliance, deftly slipping into

Revolt

Animals go loony when earthquakes and volcanoes gather their murderous forces. But dogs and owners sleep silently even as teachers in the hamlets of West Virginia summon the courage of miners and rich kids

Statues

He sits like one of the park’s statues, knit cap pulled down to his eyes, blanket tugged up to his mouth, five rotten teeth his most memorable feature. I put a dollar in

Who the Hell Am I?

In 1970, after dropping out of college in Washington, D.C., I moved to Baltimore where I lived in a row home still heated by a coal furnace on West

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