Story
How I got here
Start here if you're new. This is the short version, in my own words.
I didn't know I was keeping a scrapbook of St. Louis until I went back through the pictures. A park sign. The Fair. An old sign over an intersection. I left Hazelwood West in June 1998.
The park came first. The stone entrance sits on the median, bare March trees, and the windshield is the frame. I grew up around that park. The Fair of 1904 used it, and the Art Museum building and the Flight Cage are still standing from it. I'm walking the ground, not rewriting the exposition.
Then the animals. Honey Butter Biscuit is a small tan terrier mix with a scruffy coat. She's one of the strays who came through my door, and the rest of them have their own page.
In 2025 the pictures had a page of their own. What I believe stayed simple. It's a private road, tied to the earth, and to a light no machine has copied. Someone, something, out there is bigger than me. I leave it there.
This city is beautiful. It is time to do something new. I said it and I didn't stutter.
Some of what happened is hard to tell. I tell it in my own words, I keep it to what I can stand behind, and I leave other people's names out.
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