March 28, 2026 - remembering Granny
28 years ago my grandmother died. In the years since I've often recounted that day, and hearing for the first time the desperate, primal wailing of a son who just found his mother on the floor as my uncle beat our door in the morning, screaming and inconsolable. I want to spend this anniversary remembering who she was, or at least who she was to me . Above all, Ortha Marie Chapman Kotlarz was as faithful a woman of God as she knew how to be. When we moved to Blackbottom in 1995, we all stayed in the house on 49th Street with her and her husband, who (whom? Whomst even knows anymore) we called Poppy and whose given name was Ken, for a couple weeks and my mom found soon that the house she grew up in on 47th Street was available for rent. And the landlord, Roger, was a legitimately kind man, and as such had no business being a landlord. I hope all his dreams came true. We'd have been homeless for most of my childhood if not for that man's kindness, and if you know anything abo...



















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