Ever heard of Peleliu? Here's why it should mean something to you

Of late I've been reading, re-reading and listening to books about World War II, specifically the war in the Pacific, where, unlike the European theatre, the rules of the Geneva Convention were ignored. War itself is awful, brutal and a hellish thing, but even a cursory study of the war in the Pacific — waged in a series of attritional battles on tiny islands made of untenable topography — reveals unthinkable horrors. It left its brave survivors with a lifetime of nightmares.

Speaking of race: I broke the law 40 years ago, and my whiteness probably helped me get away with it ... now what?

The red and blue flashing lights cut through the darkness and scared the teenage hell out of us.

It was the middle of the night, well after midnight — probably after 2 in the morning, through the years have erased many of the details — and neither I nor my new friend had a valid reason to be where we were.

And neither of us had a valid driver’s license.