Author Archive | Michael D. Yates


A Land Grant in Maine: The Gift That’s Been Giving Since 1767

This past summer, we stayed at Oakland House Seaside Resort, in Brooksville, Maine, along the Eggemoggin Reach in Penobscot Bay. The property is large and consists of several business entities. We lodged in the hostel, which is a remodeled old farm house, with six private rooms, kitchen, dining/living area, and a small library. Room rentals […]

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 Karen looked up from her computer, on which she had been reading newspapers from places where we have lived, and said, “Geraldine died.” I was lying in a hostel bed, relaxing after a ten-mile hike along the ocean, the beach flanked by tall dunes. It had been a picture-perfect afternoon, the sky festooned with great […]

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Dreaming of the Dead

My father was sleeping, curled up in the small chair next to the picture window. I thought this  strange, because he never sat in that chair. It was my mother’s perch, from which she peered out at the street watching for neighbors  and waiting every day for the mail truck to arrive. When she was […]

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Dolphins at the Hilton

The Kohala Coast on the Big Island of Hawai’i is spectacular. For miles north and south, the lava-rock shoreline is broken by tree- and palm-lined beaches. Thirty miles across the sea, the islands of Maui and Lanai are often visible. To the north the Kohala Mountains rise gently inland, and to the west, the immense […]

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Order-Givers and Order-Takers*

In the summer of 2001, I worked as a front desk clerk—we were called guest service agents—at the Lake Hotel in Yellowstone National Park. The work was hard. We spent long hours on our feet, dealing with a steady stream of demanding guests and a constant barrage of problems. The pay was low, six dollars […]

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Sacco and Vanzetti*

 Today is the 87th anniversary of the state-sponsored murder of Sacco and Vanzetti. What follows is a film review and essay that I wrote a few years ago. I think you will find it interesting. There are links for further study. “If it had not been for this thing, I might have lived out my […]

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Recently we drove to Estes Park, Colorado, up steep and winding South St. Vrain Canyon, along the white waters of the river of the same name. A few miles from town, we parked near a dirt road and started walking, soon coming to the entrance of the H Bar G Ranch. There are several old […]

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