Anne Kaier

Tuesday Night Rehearsal

I’m sitting in a metal chair, getting ready to sing Joseph Haydn’s lovely Saint Nicholas Mass with my community choir on the night the DC sniper is scheduled to die by lethal injection. Staring at the knotty pine walls of our practice hall, I draw as much air into my tight ...

The Red Snowsuit

In the mid-1960s, my family lived in a northern New Jersey steel-gray, shingle-style colonial. My memories of early childhood are like Van Gogh’s dreary, early work in Nuenen, Holland, gray with a little brown. Then, the Hague and Bulb Fields with the surprising burst of muted flowers: orange, blue, white, red, green, and ...

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