Southern Stories, Interviews, and Artifacts
After settling the boys on the air-mattress beside our bed, I opened the windows in our bedroom for some fresh air. It was still raining, but the gusts were less frequent. Dark as pitch, I couldn’t tell how much damage had been done but knew when dawn broke things would be different. After a while, […]
Most of the time, Mama and Daddy answered endless questions from Ginny and me with thoughtful, thorough answers. There was nothing we couldn’t ask that they wouldn’t try to explain. However, when I complained about the fact that something was unfair, Daddy’s favorite answer was, “When you meet fair in the road, come get me.” […]
Everyone has a sacred space. A place that allows time for quiet and adjustment, a reset, a place to listen for God. It’s a deeply personal space and can be found almost anywhere: a bedroom, broom closet, inside the car on a morning commute. Some can even create space in their own minds, no matter […]
When Nanny and Pops went to the camp, they most always took me. Pops built the camp in 1961 on a shady lot on the banks of the Itchuaway-Notchuway Creek in Baker County, Georgia. It was a joint purchase between Pops and four of his siblings, but he constructed and wired the house himself. By […]
Daddy and I have always been close. Always. Until I was about fourteen or so, I had a healthy dose of equal parts fear of and respect and adoration for him. As I got older, there was less and less fear and more and more respect and adoration.