Author: Porter McDonald

The word for pebble in Hebrew is tz’zor. It is also the word for bond. In Jewish tradition it is customary to leave a pebble or stone atop a grave to show that you were there, that you remembered. The custom ties back to sitting shiva, the seven day mourning period associated with Jewish funerals. … Continue reading Stones

I’m in Millvale. I had delicately parked next to one of a scant handful of meters, but as I circle around, fumbling for change, I discover two empty metal husks.  The ex-meters grin vacantly at me like the desiccated shell of a desert toad. Somebody had slapped a sticker over where its mouth should be. … Continue reading Ghost Buildings

It’s my sixth day of travel and I’m limping around the outside of the Concordia Club. It’s August. It’s eighty-nine degrees. I’m sweating profusely. The humidity has caused my hair to puff out of my ponytail creating a frizzy halo around my head resembling a baby orangutan. There’s a cream cheese stain on my t-shirt … Continue reading The Club

"I felt...as if I were made of some bright, airy, musical substance and that in my chest was a source of power that would any minute explode releasing thousands of singing birds." - Robyn Davidson (Tracks, 1980) I'm traveling to a major city in the Eastern United States, and for some reason, the book I … Continue reading Departure

It’s hard to wrap my brain around the fact that I’ll be headed off to Pittsburgh in four days. My departure is not by far, the beginning of my journey, nor is this first entry to the blog. The project started over ten years ago when my sister discovered our third great-grandfather’s grave in a … Continue reading The Beginning