Photo by Robert Burroughs
“G-57,” and there is a whoop in the main hall.
Keating, who wrote for the Reader from 1973 through 1987, worked as an attorney in downtown San Diego and then founded the apologetics organization, Catholic Answers.
Editor's picks of stories Keating wrote for the Reader:
- For someone brought up on rock, spoon-fed by the Stones. Beatles, and lesser luminaries of the musical tradition of the sixties, Bach is hard to approach. The instruments are all different (where is the guitar?). the tempo is strange. and the only dance that fits the beat is the minuet. How does one go about introducing himself to the world of Bach? (Feb. 15, 1973)
- Do not call them chicanos; they dislike the word. They are Mexican-Americans: the first, because their roots lie to the south; the second, because their sons and fathers have lived and died here. Most of the families along Second Avenue have lived in Escondido for forty or fifty years. (Nov. 3, 1977)
Grandma Cruz gets $170 monthly from Social Security. “Do you think she can afford to buy a new house on that? Or even rent a small apartment?”
- My hands are a little clammy, and there is a marked beat at the temples. It is the last game of the night—a Blackout special—and on three of my four boards I have only three spaces uncovered. I actually have a chance. ( Aug. 18, 1977)
- La Mesa Rec Center may be the closest the San Diego area comes to an amusement park. It has five golf courses, 19 trampolines ($1.50 for adults), eight baseball batting cages (50c for 20 pitches), a couple dozen bumper cars ($1.25 per ride), and almost 200 games ranging from pong to traditional pinball. (Oct. 6, 1977)
- In San Diego most go players get that practice on Tuesday nights at the Balboa Club building at Sixth and Ivy. Here the Go Club meets, using the same room as the larger Chess Club. The weaker players, who tend to take longer in their games, arrive around seven, and the dan-level players usually come an hour later. (Feb. 8, 1979)
John Cox, a fifty-one-year-old marine enginee who lived in Japan, now lives in El Cajon with his wife Taneko. “When I get up in the morning, I look at my go board, and every day I oil it. ”
- "I can't just talk about my subject," began Richard Latrobe-Bateman. "I must talk about my view of the world is that I think we're actually doomed." This got the attention of the audience. A man with white hair rolled his eyes and looked at his wife. She stared at her hands. A student looked up from the book he was reading. The two dozen people who gathered at Mesa College on March 27 weren't anticipating such an introduction. ( April 2, 1987)