“Yea, and we also see the great wickedness one very wicked man can cause to take place among the children of men.” (Alma 46:9) Dear Family, Two Saturdays ago while riding my bike north on New Hampshire Avenue with a group of dads from the neighborhood, we pedaled past the St. Andrew Ukrainian Orthodox Cathedral:…
Author: Timothy Willis
On Sophie’s joining the American stampede out of Ukraine, how we survived a tsunami (advisory) in Hawaii, Hannah’s and J.T.’s new jobs, and my admittedly minority view of virtual church. (Vol. xxvi, No. 1)
Dear Family, Like a lot of Americans who were living in Ukraine when I last wrote, Sophie is no longer in Ukraine. The Church’s decision to move all non-Ukrainians out (leaving just nine missionaries in the entire country) came a day or two before the U.S. State Department’s announcement that it was ordering family members…
On Sophie’s evacuation, covid’s impact on marathon performance, a departed cousin, and how winter in most of Arizona is colder than you might think (Vol. xxv, No. 12)
Dear Family, One of the teachers at the middle school where Crystal works is from Ukraine. When Crystal mentioned to her a few weeks ago that our daughter was currently serving a mission there, the teacher’s response was unusually curt and brusque. “Not a good time to be in Ukraine,” was all she said. I…
Vol. 25, No. 11
Dear Family, When Hannah was born — 25 years ago next month — all four of my grandparents were still living. Less than a month later, Bertram Trowbridge Willis, the younger of my two grandfathers, died. He had recently turned 84. My other three grandparents would follow him over the ensuing five years, culminating with…
Vol. 25, No. 10
Dear Family, As parents, there are certain tales and adventures of our children that we are happy not to learn about until after they are over. Sophie’s ordeal in getting to Dnipro, Ukraine, earlier this month is one of those. It turns out I was right to be concerned when Sophie relayed to me the…
Vol. 24, No. 9
We don’t get out that much. We’re not agoraphobic; it’s just that when we contemplate going to things, the thought of having to get there, find parking, and deal with all the vagaries and uncertainties of downtown just seems exhausting. Consequently, we often succumb to inertia and are content staying home and watching TV. We…
Vo. 24, No. 8
Never before has a TSA line seemed to move so quickly. Even without PreCheck, Sophie made her way through the security queue outside Terminal D of Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport with uncommon ease on Wednesday morning. Perhaps it only seemed to move so fast because I was not actually standing in it. The more…
Vol. 24, No. 7
Dear Family, I have now ridden in an ambulance. So we can check that one off. My trip to the hospital, as you might have guessed, was occasioned by an incident involving my bicycle and a car. Inasmuch as the road rash on my left shoulder, left forearm, left hip and right hand has mostly…
Vol. 24, No. 6
Dear Family, “Dude, has anyone ever told you you look exactly like Rick Carlisle?” The question was posed to me as I walked along Ellsworth Avenue in Downtown Silver Spring by a stranger sitting on the sidewalk between the entrances to Ben & Jerry’s and Noodles & Company. “You’re talking to me?” I asked. “Yeah….
Vol. 24, No. 5
Dear Family, [Before getting into the mundanity of my life this month, I should open by expressing my sincere gratitude for what appears to be the gradual recovery of my 17-year-old nephew who has been hospitalized at Children’s National Medical Center for the past week with what I believe can be characterized as a life-threatening…
