Nobody much likes to talk about suicide or think about suicide or, in my case, write about suicide.
The United States government wants Rigo Padilla to go back where he came from.
Pam Catalano was in the second semester of her sophomore year at Oak Park-River Forest High School when the hour arrived that she had been dreading since before she ever set foot inside the west suburban school, her anxiety stoked by tales from her older sisters.
The little photo at the bottom of the page last week said I was on vacation, but the defensive part of my nature wants you to know it wasn't THAT kind of vacation.
There's an old saying in the African-American community, passed down from generation to generation, that goes a long way toward explaining some of what transpired here last week after the death of Chicago School Board President Michael Scott.
Mark Brown: When Burr Oak Cemetery opens partially to the public today for the first time since all hell broke loose in July, visitors may notice a number of changes, from a repaired main entrance gate to filled potholes to improved drainage.
On the way in to work Tuesday morning, I heard an alderman on the radio saying she couldn't believe Chicago School Board President Michael Scott committed suicide because suicide is for weak people and Michael Scott wasn't weak.
They say you can count on there always being somebody who will come along and screw things up for everybody else.
Gilbert asked me if I could help him get one of those free cell phones I wrote about the other day.
About three and a half years ago, a trio of students at John Marshall Law School got it into their heads that what they really ought to do was start a legal clinic specializing in helping veterans get their benefits from the VA.
When Katie Sharp called last week looking for help in tracking down her "free cell phone from the government," it took every liberal bone in my body to keep from responding: "just as soon as I get MY free cell phone from the government."
