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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

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Even a year and a half later, I have more thoughts, emotions, and stories from those weeks of immediate storm recovery than I could ever put fully into words. I think a lot about the people I never would have met if the hurricane hadn’t happened. I still have images burned into my brain . . .Continue Reading

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You only had to tell us once that there were water snakes about. Or that back on terra firma, there was quicksand to look out for. Swinging vines were eager to snap, and adorable bear cubs were sure to be followed by outraged mamas . . . Continue Reading

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During the war, over 425,000 Axis prisoners of war were held in the United States, with 378,156 being German and the rest Italian. Tennessee housed more than 8,000 of these prisoners, with the largest group located at . . . Continue Reading

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I had to pry the details from her that night, like gently loosening rusted hinges on an ancient door. She kept dodging my questions as if something compelled her to keep the whole ordeal buried deep. But after a few hours she came out with most everything. Or at least with everything I will ever know . . . Continue Reading

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Then one night George had been awakened by singing. He strained to look at the pallets on the cold cave floor, but the sick soldiers slept on, unaware of the music. It didn’t come from any of them. Though his body ached, George rose from his bed to move toward . . . Continue Reading

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But we all have Christmas and Holiday memories. This year, let us bring our Appalachian histories to the forefront and tell them to our families. Let us come together and tell new stories, too. My sincere hope is that we as a mountain society will . . . Continue Reading

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Even though I’ve only lived in the South, I tried to make my own path in the world, from the East coast to the West coast, from my childhood to getting older, in between work to earning a living. The core values I gained from being raised on a farm guided me on a . . . Continue Reading

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I am seven. I lay in “my bedroom,” the spare bedroom at her house in Tazewell, Tennessee. Dusk settles down in the holler, and the only light shining through my window is from the moon. Earlier, I had . . . Continue Reading