“I couldn’t sleep. It was Christmas, and I was alone. I was restless, a little depressed. I missed Vic terribly. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling so blue, when suddenly the phone rings.” It was Vic Damone, calling his wife Pier...
I kissed him on the cheek, wished him well, and watched him walk down the street. He kicked at some stones like a little boy scuffling down the street, and he stopped under a lamppost to light a cigarette. Then he squared his shoulders, turned...
Late the other evening my husband came home from work, his face haggard, his eyes looking like two poached eggs. He was so tired and depressed that he stumbled into the house and went directly to the bedroom, without saying a word, and closed the...