Old Stone Church, 10:15 a.m. Thursday. A banner on the front door reads, “Exhale Love!” Exhale. But not yet. Old Stone Church, 10:15 a.m. Thursday. It feels as though the entire city is waiting, holding its breath.
Public Square, 9:30 a.m. Wednesday. Some guy is sprawled out on the steps at the front edge of the speaking stage below the Moses Cleaveland statue, fast asleep.
As it turns out, even after a lifetime of stupid questions, there are still more to be asked. I learned this on day two of the Republican National Convention, when I went around asking one: “How do you define the American Dream?”
“This is the Johnny Manziel of conventions.” That quip has been ringing in my head, a very Cleveland one-liner shared by a friend a few days before I set off to spend a week at the Republican National Convention.
In the summer of 1982, David Giffels heard a startlingly familiar series of numbers on the radio that momentarily redefined his Akron identity.