Laid across John Bennett’s dining room table, like memories strewn across the decades, are dozens of yellowed photographs, some notes written for some purpose now long forgotten and an aeronautical…

Like many of the guests, I wander about, letting my feet take me where they will and find myself near the Spitfire. Very soon, I am involved in a conversation with two ladies and a gentleman, …

Yesterday, here in Ottawa, it was a typically hot and sweltering summer day, but it felt cold and hard. The cold of a long Canadian winter with no warmth in sight. When a good man dies, the numbness sinks deep…