Writing is writing whether done for duty, profit, or fun.
On January 2, 1936, the Bryant School, once located on Twelfth and B Streets Southeast, released for the day at noon. While her fellow classmates headed home, Juanita McGee, age six, didn’t make it back to her East Capitol Street home that afternoon.
Before your mind goes to a dark place, don’t worry. Juanita did eventually make it home.
Continue reading “Wanderlust”I don’t want to talk about Uvalde. I don’t want to talk about the thwarted Patriot Front riot. There are half-written, angry-sad posts talking about Uvalde in my drafts. And none of them will see the light of day. Because it’s no my tragedy to talk about. It’s not my story to share.
It’s difficult to talk about it without bringing up what I was doing that day. And how the news gnawed at the back of my head.
Instead, I leave you with Andrea Gibson’s poem, “Orlando.”
Chapin City Blues 