First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
Three days before my wedding, my father stood on my porch in Birch Hollow, Pennsylvania, holding an old Red Wing boot box against his chest... Read more
The first night I came home alone from the funeral home, I sat in the truck in my own driveway for close to twenty minutes... Read more
My name is Harriet Whitfield now. For eighteen years of my life, the first eighteen, I was Harriet Dietz, and I grew up in Bellwood,... Read more
I have lived in Millhaven my whole life, two streets over from the farmhouse where I grew up, and I thought I understood every last... Read more
I have made blackberry jam in the same enamel pot since 1994, and I have sold it from the same corner of the Millbrook Farmers... Read more
My husband Harold and I built our house on County Road 14 in the spring of 1981. We were both twenty six. We did not... Read more
My mother, Helen Pruitt, lived on Larkin Street in Millbrook for fifty six years. It is a small house, white with green shutters, the kind... Read more
I was gone from my own kitchen for fifteen minutes. That is all it took. Fifteen minutes to walk down County Road 12 to the... Read more
I have replayed that meeting so many times I could recite it like a scripture I never wanted to memorize. Walter Hargrove behind his father’s... Read more
My name is Arlene, and I am sixty-eight years old. For forty-one years I was married to a man named Roy who could fix anything... Read more