Deeper and deeper into late summer, the nights on our porch are filled with quiet discussion, the smoke of Mr. Cassette’s new cigar passion, tinkling of ice cubes and the large numbers of cicadas circled together in their droning chorus. This is
Tag: Omaha history sleuthing
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It happened like this. I rushed through the office and asked, “Where did the photograph from 9402 Pacific Street go to?” As I shuffled through a stack of manilla file folders, my coffee stained case notes and recently delivered mail, I pleaded