By:
On:
In: Nonfiction
With: 0 Comments

We passed some rushing waterfalls tumbling over rocks as they splashed down the hill. Daddy said that June was the peak season for the rhododendrons that grew wild in the park. As we drove along, the roadside was lined with their pink blossoms and waxy green leaves, and beyond them the lush green hillsides, one after another, becoming blue and then a hazy kind of slate gray as they faded off into the distance . . . Continue Reading

By:
On:
In: Nonfiction, Way Back When
With: 3 Comments

Annabel was tough, and she did not take prisoners. No excuses for failure to complete assignments were accepted. If a person was still drawing breath into their body, had blood coursing through their veins, and was still warm, they had darn well better have done their homework, or a browbeating ensued. She required book reports every two weeks. I remember vividly . . . Continue Reading

By:
On:
In: Nonfiction, Other Reviews, Wanderings
With: 1 Comment

Earlier this month, Appalachia Bare took ourselves a little trip to Chattanooga and visited the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum (TVRM). While there, we took a 65-minute train ride on the Local1)Why the term “local”? These short trains were a “lifeline to small towns along the railroad.” They often delivered mail,Continue Reading

By:
On:
In: Nonfiction, Resurrecting Forgotten Writers
With: 4 Comments

Growing up in the shadow of Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga, Tennessee, a city socially stratified according to altitude, I fell under the spell of native author Christine Noble Govan, whose specialty was children’s mystery novels set in or near the city’s scenic attractions. A prolific writer of more than 50Continue Reading

By:
On:
In: Nonfiction, Our Better Angels
With: 4 Comments

My friend Virgil Davis passed away on April 21, 2020, at his home in Knoxville, Tennessee. At the time, I posted a brief tribute to him on Facebook describing Virgil as a gentleman, scholar, teacher, community organizer, and social justice advocate. His son Jon echoed my sentiment in his dad’sContinue Reading

By:
On:
In: Resurrecting Forgotten Artists
With: 4 Comments

It is wonderful to live and sing. It is a great thing to feel that one is able to help other people with one’s voice. I want to play in a new opera where the heroine does not die in the last scene or go mad. That is why IContinue Reading

By:
On:
In: Nonfiction
With: 7 Comments

When I was ten, my mother enrolled me in Margaret Howell’s School of Dancing and Etiquette. It was a phase of my male finishing school education designed to rid the savage within and transform me into a Southern gentleman, i.e., Chaucer’s “veray parfit gentil knight.” (For the record, all gentlemenContinue Reading