Tom Garrett

Columnist

Recent Stories

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When the wilds call some of us have to answer – Part 3

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Last week I wrote about the adventure of getting stuck on an ice floe in Iceland.

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When the wilds call some of us have to answer – Part 2

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Last week I broke off at the point where I had reached Iceland, where the sight of the midnight blue Arctic Ocean lying in one direction and a range of snow-clad mountains in the other had told me I was in for some great hiking, but then I learned that the only way we were allowed off base was in a blue Class-A uniform armed with a pass to a town or city! 

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When the wilds call, some of us have to answer

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Some people are happy to spend their lives in a town or city surrounded by concrete and asphalt. And that’s fine; we’re each different and we have a natural right to be whatever we feel we are. But that’s not me; I’m happiest when I’m in the great outdoors.

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What’s in a nickname? Often more than you’d like to know

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I was reading a book by Winston Churchill where he mentioned that he and President Roosevelt privately referred to Joseph Stalin, the murderous dictator of the Soviet Union, as “Uncle Joe.”

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You really can’t go home again

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When my family moved from New York City to New London, Conn., I found myself in a town that suited me perfectly, small enough to know well, but large enough to be worth knowing.

You never know what the next day may have in store for you

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I tell you, Johnny, if someone had asked me 10 years ago how many good murder mystery novels I had ever read  — and enjoyed — I would have had to admit the total came to a nice round figure: zero.

Inventions people’d pay a lot for

A few weeks ago I discovered that confession can be good for the soul — and for a laugh. It happened when I got thinking about something — a bad habit at my age — and came up with a list of 10 items I doubted Mom and Pop’s generation had back in the early 1900s.

A little more about ‘I thought ...’

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I cringe whenever I hear someone start a sentence with, “Oh, I thought ...” or, “Oh, I didn’t think ...” or one of its many variations.

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Four days and 1,000 miles by rail on a ‘prisoner chase’ – Part 2

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The first thing the 19-year-old basic trainee deserter did when Eddie Morgan and I got him seated in our compartment and the train started rolling was look at my drill instructor’s badge and say, “DI, you ain’t never gonna get me back to that base! I’ll take out both of you.”

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Four days and 1,000 miles by rail on a ‘prisoner chase’

Your Turn

After two years of civilian life I re-enlisted in the Air Force in 1955, having discovered that I had mistakenly left the kind of life I truly loved.

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