Bank right at 31st Street


My brother called from his cell phone. "A plane just landed on Country Club Boulevard. I don't think it's going anywhere for a while." Turns out engine trouble brought the little Cessna to the ground, after clipping a couple of street signs on the way down. The pilot, who had skillfully maneuvered the plane onto the edge of an empty lot, walked away without a scratch. I spotted a couple of reporters from one of the local newspapers (the main rival of my former rag) standing on the sidewalk discussing... something. I sidled up for a little eavesdropping, hoping to cull a few details. But they recognized me and, casting sideways glances resolutely, mockingly, refused to talk about anything but the coffee at Brewed Awakenings. I went away uninformed, and craving a cappucino.