In a few days, the United States turns 250 years old. A milestone like this invites celebration, but it also invites inventory — a quieter accounting of what, exactly, has lasted. Nations endure for many reasons: armies, treasuries, geography, luck.…
A Reflection at Seventy-Three By: Kenneth Carnesi, Sr. I wake earlier than I used to, though I sleep no less. The body keeps its own clock now, indifferent to the hour I’d choose for it. There is a stiffness in…
By: Kenneth Carnesi, Sr., JD On faith, reason, and the decisions, logic was never built to finish There is a particular kind of moment that falls in a negotiation, a hiring decision, or a hard conversation with a struggling employee…
A reflection on memory, character, and what survives us By: Kenneth Carnesi, Sr. There is a particular hour—usually late, usually quiet—when a man who has lived seventy-three years finds himself doing the arithmetic of a life. Not the arithmetic of…
Why we cheer for the long shot — and turn on him the moment he stops being one By: Kenneth Carnesi, Sr. -Author There is a particular, reliable thrill in watching someone who isn’t supposed to win, win anyway. The…
By Kenneth B. Carnesi, Sr. He was the steady center of our world—quiet, certain, kind. In my seventies, I find myself measuring my life against the long, gentle shadow he still casts. There is a particular kind of quiet that…
Kenneth Carnesi, Sr. 