Shelly Reuben 's Recent Stories


The natural history of the soul

What follows is the first letter I received from my father after my brother, Michael, died. April 3, 1974 Dear Shelly, When nature ..


Good morning, Sam

My brother, Mikey, died on a beautiful day. The temperature was eighty degrees. He had borrowed his friend’s raft. It ..


A father to the very core of his being

After everyone else had gone home from Michael’s funeral, I stayed on with Mom, Dad and my brother Chucky, and ..


What do you do when you see a mountain cry?

My brother, Michael Asher Reuben, was a talented, passionate, virile, handsome young man who wanted to write scripts, produce movies, ..


A tough racket …

July 28, 1973 My dear Shelly, Why don’t you give up on New York City and come back to Chicago and Highland ..


He loved not wisely, but too well

To be a landlord is to be imprisoned in the last form of sanctioned slavery in this country. It is ..


For Sale By Owner

I grew up during the bad years. Urban Renewal had come within block of my father’s buildings. New government-subsidized ..


Changing neighborhoods

In the early 1900’s, my grandfather, Shepsel Reuben, opened a little general store at 656 Maxwell Street in Chicago. Maxwell ..


Coming to America

Samuel Reuben loved Chicago. When my mother made him leave the gray stucco house at 4907 North Bernard Street, where ..


My Darling Daughter…

When my father wrote me these letters, I was living in Princeton, New Jersey, commuting to my job in Manhattan, ..


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