em•i•nent do•main


I was about five years old when my dad told me that a new highway was going to be built in our town. He said it would be coming right past our house. I pictured it running through the middle of our driveway and wondered if I would ever be able to go outside and play again. Continue reading


Portraits of Life

I can still picture my mom and dad peacefully sitting in their living room, or the “fruntrume” as they called it. The aroma of fresh baked bread filled the small house as they sat there enjoying their coffee; mom’s piping hot, and dad’s lukewarm. Continue reading