The Cap My Father Never Saw
My real diploma came in the mail six weeks later, in a cardboard tube with a rubber band around it. The one they hand you… Read more
The Fence Line Between Two Brothers
His truck was already at the creek gate when I pulled in at six-thirty that second Saturday in March, and I sat there with my… Read more
The Seat I Saved Every Saturday
The coat was brown canvas with a corduroy collar gone shiny from wear. On the left elbow there was a patch my wife sewed on… Read more
The Pancake Money Nobody Could Find
Bernice Rademacher waited until I had set my ledger on the table and hung my coat on the back of the folding chair before she… Read more
The Empty Seat in Merle’s Combine
The seat in my husband’s combine was gray vinyl, split along the left edge, with a sheepskin cover I sewed for it in the winter… Read more
Forty Years Behind the Lunch Line
On my last morning I stood in the dark kitchen at a quarter past four, tied my hairnet at the back of my head the… Read more
