The sound of silence
Three years ago, I walked an unforgettable, centuries-old pilgrimage route.
Journalism can be like playing Monopoly. It has yet to make me a fortune or hoard me real estate, though it also hasn’t bankrupt me. But I often feel I’m “just visiting” as I parachute into stories. It’s not that my sources are “in jail,” but they go about their lives while I, for a moment, ask questions and keep my eyes and ears open. Then I move on to…