The Lord did not bless me with good eyesight.
When I got an eye test at school, I believe I had 20/70 vision.
I got glasses just in time for a family vacation to Pennsylvania.
It was my first trip to the North.
We went to places like Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, Hersey Park and Gettysburg.
I saw it all.
Apart from the occasional trip to Atlanta or tourist destinations, I didn’t have much to do with what most people call “big” cities until my sister and brother-in-law moved to Michigan five years ago.
Most of what I knew about “city life” I heard in stereotypes or on TV shows.
I have tried to gather my thoughts on what has happened in America in the last week.
I have not been able to gather them well yet, I don’t think.
I know I haven’t gathered them well enough for rational comment, other than the next few sentences.
I wish we would all love one another.
I wish love would spread throughout America and throughout the world.
I wish for these wishes to come true.
Several times today, Memorial Day, my mind has drifted to one evening almost a year ago.
Freedom is a precious thing.
We’ll honor those who paid the price to keep us free at the end of the month, but it’s never too early to start.
It was just another Tuesday, and I was just another 15-year-old sophomore in high school.
My mind had little regard for anything except girls, sports, what I’d eat for lunch and how I’d get through math class.
I didn’t have a cell phone or a driver’s license.
I was nowhere near New York City or the World Trade Center.
Terrorism was just a word.
I’m 32 now. Things are different.
I know you might skim this story on your cell phone. I know you might be too young to remember what happened.
Maybe you weren’t even born.
Maybe all you know about Sept. 11, 2001, came from what you’ve seen on social media or heard in history class.
My friend wrote a column about Sept. 11 last week, in which she made a wonderful point about what I remember most from the the day’s aftermath. I’ve thought about you since I read it. I thought about you again this morning, when I saw an Instagram post from a history teacher who had students interview someone who has a clear memory of what happened 17 years ago today to help them see a different picture of one of America’s most disasterous days.
I’ll never forget what unfolded in those hours.
If you can’t remember, and you have a minute to spare, I’d like to try to take you to a time when the history you’ve heard was just heartbreak. (more…)
My mama’s daddy died when I was 7 years old, but I learned a lot about him during the 2,815 days we shared. (more…)
I have listened a lot in the last few days.
I have listened to a lot of opinions on a lot of different things since the tragedy in Charlottesville, Virginia.
I have opinions on a lot of things, most of which I will keep to myself because they aren’t important.
I will address some things, however, and I will start with a story. (more…)
I planned to discuss Mount Rushmore in this column.
Instead, I wrote about stairs, persistence and two people I met in an old graveyard.
I realize those sentences don’t make sense so here’s a little backstory. (more…)