Headless Horseman Night

With the fuzzy, blue blanket in my arms, I stepped onto the lighted, back porch and into a barrage of swarming June bugs. Several brown bugs lost their spiky legs that hot summer night in Phoenix as I raced to the swing set, ripping them from the blanket.

Lost in the Desert

1968 Dad’s quest to find the infamous Lost Dutchman’s mine in the Superstition Mountains, east of Phoenix, sent us rambling up and down rut-filled roads that were not on the map.