A small boat skims across the surface of a lake, an old man at the helm. His white hair flutters in the wind. He is smiling. The sun is shining. He guides the boat into a quiet alcove and kills the engine and tosses an anchor overboard. He leans over the side of the boat and peers into the emerald water as the ripples disappear and his reflection appears . . .Continue Reading
Things happen at night in the holler. Bad things. Of course, that goes for big cities, too. But we all know hollers have no street lights or city lights and nighttime is pitch-black along those meandering dirt roads. Nightfall covers a multitude of sins like a cozy patchwork blanket. It’sContinue Reading
In honor of Memorial Day, I’m including a second excerpt of my father’s memoirs when he was in the Vietnam War. Thank you to all our service members – to those who fought in the past and to those who still continue to fight. –Delonda Anderson Excerpt Two ItContinue Reading
When I was about five years old (before we moved to the holler), my family and I lived in a little green house on a little paved street in Jacksboro, Tennessee. My younger brother and I often felt cramped in our small, grassy yard, so we regularly wandered—but rarely tooContinue Reading