Memories of My Father

A visitation from the past.

Editor’s Note: The following is the Contra Review newsletter, delivered every Friday.

My father and I were worlds apart in more ways than one.

I was born in California in 1990. He was born in Mexico in 1924, arriving in the U.S. not long after the close of WWII. I get my old soul from him.

He had a long and wild life colored by myths that became gems of…