Why should gays be denied the pleasures of Catholic guilt?
On the recent April night when I became a Catholic, my feet hurt like hell.
Shannon Jackson’s jazz drumminghas brought worldwide fame— and hometown obscurity.
The haunting music wafts out of the black-painted frame house. The notes have no trouble negotiating the double layers of wrought-iron fence, surrounding first the porch and then the yard of Ronald Shannon Jackson’s home. The...