Everybody has a story

If by chance you are reading this, it is a Ghost post.

Ghost is an alternative to Substack. It’s a lot like Substack in that people with Ghost accounts can clutter other people’s email boxes with regular or non-so-regular postings. But it is a nice option for someone like me who has spent the last couple of years opining that there are too many Substacks in the world.

My brilliant friend Bridgette Dunlap, a lawyer and journalist in St. Louis, told me about Ghost. She said it was a way to sidestep some of the ethical issues of Substack. Even better, Ghost is not driven by algorithms. As someone who survived (barely) the ruinous click counts of newspaper work, I have no desire to ever meet an algorithm test again.

For a long time I resisted the idea of starting up any kind of platform. As I said above, there are just so many. But I gave up all of my freelance writing gigs in our move last year from Kansas City to Philadelphia. And now I miss having a venue to write for.

So, Ghost it is and here I am.

For those who might entertain the notion of reading “Choice Words” on Ghost, I have prepared a Q&A about what to expect.

• What is this platform about? Good question! It is about stories, my own and the ones people tell me, often in random, unsolicited conversations. And how those stories intersect with the crazy things going on in the world.
• What is this platform not about? This will not be a chronicle of politics, the Trump administration or the decline of democracy. Many, many writers are doing that very well on local, state and national levels. There will be some overlap, because the sorry state of affairs today does affect our stories. But it won’t be the main focus.
• How often will you post this? Not sure. Maybe intermittently. Or perhaps regularly. How about, as often as possible?
• Do you expect to make money from this? Oh lord, no. That would be too much pressure. I would feel like I had to post often and even do actual reporting, instead of meandering about and writing about things that happen to me. If I ever put in some honest effort I’ll let you know.

My own story is that of someone who relocated from Kansas City to Philadelphia a year ago, right before I turned 70. A lot of people, I’ve found, relocate in their 60’s and 70’s, usually for the reason Jon and I did — to be closer to family. 

We had talked about moving for a couple of years, and even checked out some neighborhoods, both in the city and nearby suburbs. It seemed so difficult. How would we leave our friends in Kansas City? How would we get the house cleared out? How on earth would we relocate two cats?

In the end, we just did it. We contacted a rental agent in Philly and leased an apartment just a 15-minute walk from Center City. We did a massive declutter, put our house on the market, and showed up for a string of farewell coffees, lunches, dinner and parties. It took about three months. On the first Friday of October 2025 we hoisted cat carriers into the back seat of the Honda Fit and headed east.

My first year in Philly has been eventful. A fracture popped up in my right foot for no discernable reason; it just happened. Once I got that healed I fractured my left foot in two places in a cycling mishap. Altogether I’ve spent 12 weeks hobbling arounds in an orthopedic boot, which, conveniently, is ambidextrous.

Very improbably, I got talked into taking a job — as interim executive director of a nonprofit called The Center-Philadelphia. We operate a day center and meal program for unhoused Philadelphians. It has been quite an experience. I expect to transition out of the role at the end of October, about three months later than I had been told the gig would last.

Stories abound at work, and once I have some time to process the experience I hope to tell some of them. All I can say right now is that anyone who claims to understand homelessness is deluding themselves. It’s a tangled, multi-faceted state of affairs with human beings and communities in the cross hairs.

The day center operates out of a United Methodist Church in the heart of Center City, right by City Hall. It is a gritty, bustling part of Philadelphia, populated most days by an amiable mix of unhoused folks, tourists and workers in nearby offices. I've gotten good at giving directions to the tourists.

In a nutshell, that’s my story, right now. Everybody has a story and, here in this city of talkers, people often tell me snippets of theirs. Conversation is the oldest, most honest form of connection, and I can’t get enough of it. Stay with me, if you like, and I’ll try to share some of the things I hear and the ties that bind.