Childhood in the Redwoods by Robert W. Norris
In this childhood, there is nothing more mysterious, wonderful, and ominous than the forest.
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New York New Years by James Bloom
On New Year's Eve and Morn from 1970 to 1974, I was never home before dawn.
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Icarus by Phil Cummins
Of course, we’d never heard of sunblock or sunscreen at the time. Back then it was marketed to grown-ups as suntan oil...
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Lost by Rod Madocks
It happened in 1964 when I was twelve years old near the small town of Fort Roseberry in the country now called Zambia
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Raised by my Father by Karen Hill Anton
I was nineteen and in Europe when the tenement apartment I’d grown up in burned down.
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City of Seven Hills by Chris Parent
We open the door to my mother’s car, an Audi 5000, perched precariously on the side of one of Yonkers’ steep hills
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Sowing Seeds in Fields of Dreams by Sara Etgen Baker
We stood outside the dilapidated picket fence and shaded our eyes, casting our gazes across the grassy pasture of old man Buhler’s farmland.
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Climbing Jacob's Ladder by Michael De Rosa
Climbing Jacob's Ladder is a half-forgotten idiom for the ascent to heaven or a path out of adversity.
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Ghosts by Glen Sibley
We didn’t fit in where I grew up. Unlike all our neighbours, my parents were cash poor and worked in manual jobs.
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Granny in my Backyard by Brian Rush McDonald
Our home was in a rural area on seven acres of land, one acre of it cleared for our yard.
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Cast Out of the Boys’ Club by Susan Evans
You’re not in the club anymore,” Jimmy decreed on the first day of fifth grade. Surely, he was joking. He had to be joking.
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Walks with my Father by Michael de Rosa
With my younger sister always vying for our parents’ attention and affection, the walks I took with my father to visit friends and customers
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lil sis & BIG BRO by Michael De Rosa
My sister, Nancy, was my first playmate and is my oldest friend. We are the only ones left that remember us as children.
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Little Hands by Deborah Nash Ott
I am running to my father’s side because he has called me.
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At the Gates of Hell and of Heaven by Karen Hunt
I decided early on that the world was a terrible place. Oh yes, it was beautiful, marvelous and mysterious, but it was also terrible.
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Residence by Katharine Harvey
Some of my Mom’s belongings migrated to the new place and as years passed, I discovered what she left behind.
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Mom's Trump Card by Rick Whitaker
I asked my mom why Butch despised me--was it just because I was gay? No, Mom said, there’s more to it than that
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Sock Monkeys and Dancing Hippos by Brandon Burke
Anyone alive in the 70s will remember stuffed monkeys made from tube socks
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Christmas, Elsewhere by Heather Gatley
It was 1963. A blizzard blew across the grass outside the married quarters where we lived in RAF St Athan.
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The Apartment Menagerie by James Bloom
The first among all their creatures to be acquired, and ever primus inter pares in his father’s affections, was Bird, the Burrowing Owl
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