Boston Globe -- Beverly Beckham columns

In tooling around your town, what you see is a snapshot

Beverly Beckham, Globe Columnist — 2009-11-29T02:03:05Z

I grew up in Randolph when it was a cow town, when there were dirt roads and empty lots and woods that stretched for miles.

The ghosts of Thanksgivings past

Beverly Beckham — 2009-11-21T19:58:24Z

The best thing about the holidays is the worst thing about the holidays. The past comes calling. Sometimes it taps you on the shoulder. Sometimes it tackles you. Sometimes you laugh at what you remember. Sometimes you cry.

Missing a father he never knew

Beverly Beckham, Globe Columnist — 2009-11-15T04:23:10Z

This is what I know about my father’s father. His name was James Francis Curtin. He was born May 2, 1897, in Cambridge, to Mary Callan. He had a sister, Eleanor. They lived on Portsmouth Street. He enlisted in the Army Aug. 27, 1918. He was given one belt, one pair of gloves, a pair of underwear, one undershirt, one ...

Missing a father he never knew

Beverly Beckham, Globe Columnist — 2009-11-15T02:47:57Z

Preserved memories, in faded glory

Beverly Beckham — 2009-11-08T03:35:44Z

My father used to say, “You don’t take care of things.’’ He’d look at my car and shake his head because it was always full of books and toys and empty bags of Goldfish and whatever else my kids were into at the time.

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2009-11-08T03:35:44Z

Seeing marigolds in a new light

Beverly Beckham — 2009-10-24T00:35:38Z

They’re intrepid little flowers, dancing in the snow, lovely things - these orange and yellow marigolds that I have disparaged my whole life.

Her ‘Tammy’ still sings true

Beverly Beckham, Globe Columnist — 2009-10-18T01:00:35Z

I was such a goofy kid that I actually believed that when you grew up, life turned into a musical. I was raised on musicals - Judy Garland, Doris Day, and Gene Kelly singing and dancing on the small TV in our living room, “The King and I,’’ “Annie Get Your Gun,’’ “South Pacific’’ - blaring from a record player ...

You can’t beat service with a smile

Beverly Beckham, Globe Columnist — 2009-10-11T03:39:17Z

You were right,’’ my daughter, Lauren, said calling from her cellphone. “It’s the best place ever! It’s like Disneyworld. Everyone’s so happy. And helpful. And nice. I can’t wait to go back.’’

In ‘Nana Barbara,’ seeing my own mother

Beverly Beckham, Globe Columnist — 2009-10-04T04:31:36Z

I was 18 when we met, young and self-absorbed, and Barbara Thomas was just another grown-up, my new friend Caryn’s very nice, but very typical, mother.