Doc Warren

Back before automobiles, before the telephone and before modern roads there was a time when the best way to get from one place to another was to either make the trek by foot or horseback or if you were financially able, to hire the services of a stage coach. Stage routes sprung up all over the growing country. One route traveled up what was to become Katering (now Catering) Road in Wolcott Connecticut. Katering trail met up with what was to become Center Street where a Tavern/ Stage Stop stood (and the building still stands though now as a private residence).

I was talking with someone recently who talked about his unending desire to be the best at what he does, far better than anyone else in his field. He spoke of the power it would give him, of the fame, the riches and all the other accolades that come with it. He advised that “that is what got us where we are today…” I simply replied “that’s the problem.”

“You’re never going to amount to anything, you dropped out of school like your parents. Try getting a job mopping a floor or something…” –Anonymous adult

Alex took his last natural breath on October 12, 2013. It was a Saturday night, just before shower time, when the 14-year-old made a critical miscalculation. His mom, Brandi, can painfully recall how she found her son in his bedroom at their home in Burlington, CT: his positioning on the floor; how he must have thought that he would have control; the way he was slouched against his dresser; and the tension of the belt.

Years ago I met a young man who was fighting cancer. He had his signature hat to hide the fact that he had long since lost his hair, his skin was pale and his body was frail. He carried with him an old Charlie Brown doll. It was well worn and battered, the paint for his eyes and the few signature Charlie Brown hairs were smudged, some were altogether gone. He held it tightly and you could tell that it meant the world to him; it was an extension of him.