Writing about faith, real estate, leadership, and the decisions that shape our lives
Some kids brought video games to sleepovers. Mike brought a boot box full of stolen beer and a water bottle of whiskey. He was thirteen and already doing the math: three beers, Pat barely drinking, more for him. “The Shoebox” is about the last day of eighth grade and the first time relief felt like addiction.
In the late nineties suburbs of Broomall, where the beer was warm and the dreams were big, a group of friends learned that sometimes the best adventures are the ones that go spectacularly wrong.
From the outside, I painted a picture of perfection. The all-star baseball player. The champion wrestler. The good student when I chose to be. But behind the facade, a storm raged within me—a tempest of doubt, loneliness, and a pain I couldn’t name.
People are sick of being taken advantage of by scammers, and salespeople are tired of being labeled as cons, but some may not know the difference between real salespeople and con artists.
