“Here Lies One Whose Name Was Writ in Water” John Keats
Tall and handsome I didn’t love him for his poetry. I didn’t love him at all in a romantic way though he had a habit of sending love letters to everyone he thought beautiful. He’d sent one to me just after a bike ride along the glittering reservoir. We were friends because we’d known each…
What is your first memory?
My mother had a recurring dream while we lived in the cottage beside the river. Great rains would come and she’d wake to find the house unhinged upon the flooding water. Her brand new sewing machine sat upon a porch the real cottage didn’t have. The machine’s weight tilted the house to one side and…
Family Histories: LOSS OF A PATRIARCH
Poignant memories of a strong but kind fisherman grandfather.
How to Think About History as a Writer
Sometimes research leads you down dead ends . . .
We do judge books by their covers. We all do. I do.
I shoot an envious glance towards this house every morning on the way to our foster girl’s school. The house has an elegant sign out front “Testimony Farm.” I can’t help but wonder about testimonies. The great thing about stories of calling or faith or redemption in public testimonies is that they have beginnings, middles…
Inducement: A Bedtime Story
“I was thinking about killing you. With a knife,” the little girl says. “Really. Hmm,” I reply. “NO, I mean I’m not really going to kill you. You’re a sweet person, but if I did kill you (with a knife) would you be in the hospital or dead?” she asks, flipping the pages of the…
Books I’ve Known and Loved
I sat across from a handsome and earnest white college classmate in an artsy cafe near NYU after our Minorities in the Media class listening to him struggle with his “white guilt” for if he didn’t struggle with this and express how terribly sorry he was for happenings hundreds of years ago or last year…
Books I’ve Known And Loved
If you imagine, based on your high school American history class, that reconstruction was a bore-fest, think again. John William De Forest brings the reader on a trip to Greenville, South Carolina and introduces us to the colorful characters (black and white) he dealt with as an agent of the Freedman’s Bureau. There’s no whitewashing,…