I’m getting to that age when I find myself scanning obituaries and realizing that the list of people I know is longer than those I don’t. But, as it turns out, the obituary column isn’t the only place I become keenly aware of the absence of familiar faces. My regular visits to the military grocery store—the commissary—seem to bring people’s absence into sharper focus. I’ve been shopping at the Annapolis Navy Commissary for over 60 years.…
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