First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
My father did not drive me to the recruiter’s office. I want to start there, because everything that came after lived inside that one small... Read more
The box was sitting square in the middle of my top porch step when I came out with my coffee, and for a second I... Read more
The bluetooth speaker died on the sixth note of Taps, right in the middle of the phrase every soldier carries in his bones, and for... Read more
Preston Hale did not even look up when he told me my husband had not earned a single dollar of what he swore to us... Read more
The clock on the feed store’s brick face at the corner of Main and Route 9 read two forty seven that Thursday afternoon when I... Read more
“There wasn’t room for everyone, Cassandra,” Sylvia Crane told me in the fellowship hall of Cedar Grove Baptist Church, two days before the Fourth of... Read more
For twenty years I kept my son’s dress blues pressed and waiting in the hall closet, and every single Sunday I took them out, and... Read more
The whole classroom laughed when my teacher said my mother was probably just a desk clerk who liked airplanes. I was thirteen years old, standing... Read more
I was already half out of my chair when Greg said it, microphone in his hand, the whole VFW hall watching, and he smiled at... Read more
The patch lived in the breast pocket of my field jacket for two years, and for two years I told myself I would drive out... Read more