The date was September 14, 2001 and the 35^th Reunion of R.J. Reynolds High School Class of 1966 was about to begin; but the usual social banter wasn’t on anyone’s mind.  Tragically, September 11, 2001, forever referred to as “911,” had to come first. The colors of our alma mater are black and gold, but our clothes that weekend were striped with red, white, and blue. Read More→

Mama and her sisters knew we all needed a summer beach break.  My Grandma Stell’s condition had deteriorated to the point that she needed a nursing home with skilled care.   It was a rowdy female family that loaded the car for a trip to Myrtle Beach that steamy August day of 1962.  Read More→

Lucy was a piece of work.  She was my dad’s 1953, pea green, four door sedan and companion for ten years.  She had a “4-60” air conditioner, roll all four windows down and go 60 mph, all the AC you needed, was his theory. The fenders were also air conditioned—that is—with rust holes.  Read More→

The following is an excerpt from a soundly rejected memoir:

I remember when I was wrapped in the cocoon of childhood and fantasyland was a far safer place then reality. Summer brought my overactive imagination into full blossom.  A friend’s backyard in the Runnymeade area of Winston-Salem was the setting for nine third grade classmates to try our hands at producing a play.  Read More→

Rick, Karen, Emily, Ben and Sara settled in to the downstairs of our home. It was a tough transition for Karen especially. Every new mom wants to be near hearth and home. She talked to her mom and friends daily. Each of them was going through their own brand of anxiety. As we watched CNN one night Karen spotted the house of dear friends, Grace and Elliot. Read More→

The next morning we moved quickly to get to the children in Metairie. We tried to keep the children occupied while Mom and Dad packed suitcases. Rick handed Bill precious photos from the attic, gathered important documents, packed the tower to the computer, and Bibles.  Read More→

Sara Sloan Coogler’s birth will forever be etched in the annals of Coogler family history.  She was born Saturday, August 13, 2005 at Touro Infirmary in the Garden District of New Orleans, Louisiana. She is the third and youngest child born to Rick and Karen Coogler.  At home in Metairie, sister and brother, Emily, 5 and Ben, 3 awaited her. Read More→

In addition to grandchildren, our family consists of three granddogs, Boris and Natasha (a couple), and Mr. Fudge, a mix of something.  Of the three, Boris, a Bull Mastiff Rottweiler mix, is the most imposing.  Mr. Fudge is the new pup on the block in Clinton, SC with a personality in the beginning stages of “Early Doghood Development.” Read More→

I grew up in Smokestack City, Winston-Salem, North Carolina, before the Surgeon General’s Warning.  “Ciggypops” were 10 cents a pack and the aroma of tobacco meant business was good. I only smoked during the “dare you to” years when we hid our cigarettes in Band-Aid cans.  Judy Mae Johnson, my erstwhile sidekick and cousin, was nine months older, but no wiser.  We buried our nicotine contraband in the “tobacco underground” of her home in Greensboro, North Carolina.  The taste of tobacco buried for two weeks accounted for the green look we shared after lighting our forbidden treasures. Read More→

I grew up on tobacco road, Winston-Salem, NC.  As a child, when I walked outside to play catch with our concrete garage wall, the wind brought the faint aroma of tobacco.  It was part of life around the money leaf when tobacco barons were king.  Even though my granddad didn’t work for a tobacco company he decided I needed to see and smell a real tobacco auction.

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