First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
My son in law Blaine held up the garment bag with my Marine Corps dress blues inside, gave it a little shake like it was... Read more
My son Roald stood in my kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon in April, jingling the keys to a truck that cost more than my house... Read more
Rex Callum leaned on the counter of his impound office, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “The fee schedule is the fee schedule.”... Read more
The kid behind the counter looked at my cap, then looked at the six people in line behind me, and said it loud enough that... Read more
The first shot of the war was fired over a chain-link fence on Maple Street in August of the year my husband died, when my... Read more
The last man to see my brother alive knocked on my front door fifty five years late, on the Fourth of July, while the first... Read more
“Ask Wanda where Mama’s ring went. She knows her way to a pawn counter.” My brother Vance said that at our mother’s funeral lunch, in... Read more
My son Craig looked at me over a plate of burgers I had grilled myself, on my own porch, on the Fourth of July, and... 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
Kip Sanderson called me into the office his father built with his own hands and told me the shop needed younger energy, seven days before... Read more