One time we went to the Vineyard/We rented a car and got a late start./When we got to the ferry, it was dark/and storming.

The Vineyard was the place to be this summer, or so it appeared.

The outpouring of love, respect and admiration for Wes Craven from colleagues and fans has been so heartening for our family.

Hearth and chimneys remained/when the remote cottages succumbed/to unreachable fire and scouring salt./Stout, alone, together, they stood,/sentinels...

Editor’s Note: What follows is an edited version of opening remarks delivered by the author at the annual Hutchins Forum at the Old Whaling Church.

In the 11th grade at a decent public high school in Memphis, I ran into extraordinary good luck. A brilliant young man in his mid-twenties, named...