They're Nuns. Not Writers
whadda they know?
Kevin Cullen (Thanks, Tim): When I was a cub reporter at the late and much-lamented Transcript-Telegram, I got sent to cover a homicide in one of the less salubrious sections of Holyoke, which is so far west of Boston that some people in Beantown think it's in Montana.
There was a subdued crowd outside a tenement. A cop told me there was a party, and a gentleman by the name of Antonio Sierra had taken liberties with the host's wife. The host had responded by plunging a very large knife into Sierra's chest.
I raced back to the paper in my rust brown 1973 Buick LeSabre and typed these words:
"Chivalry is not dead, but Antonio Sierra is."
It never made the paper.
