First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
For three years I stood alone in my own backyard on the Fourth of July, lighting the exact same fireworks my son Kevin and I... Read more
I have been clipping coupons since the Carter administration, and for most of those years the only people who noticed were the cashiers who sighed... Read more
The casserole arrived before I did. I want you to understand the timeline, because the timeline is the whole problem. I came home from the... Read more
There is a particular sound a bingo dauber makes when you slam it down on a card just a little harder than you need to,... Read more
I have been cutting hair in the same chair, in the same shop, on the same square in the same small town for fifty years.... Read more
For forty one years I lost to the same woman. Her name was Hollis Lundqvist, and every August, at the Cleabourne County Fair, in the... Read more
We bought it as a joke. That is the part I have to start with, because it is the part I am most ashamed of... Read more
I am seventy-one years old, and until this past spring I believed I had reached the age where nothing new could happen to me. I... Read more
My phone is the newspaper now. Has been for eleven years, ever since the Tillerton Weekly folded and old Ferd Quackenbush packed his printing press... Read more
I am sixty-seven years old, and until last spring the most complicated piece of technology I owned was a slow cooker with a timer I... Read more