Author name: Catherine Yael Serota

Reuben Schellenberg’s pair of prize-winning grey
horses sported bright blue hooves and orange striped
manes and tails. They won no customary blue ribbons
at the county fair that summer. They stayed home and
hung their heads in shame.

Sometimes a silent, grim-faced man
holding a shotgun stepped out from behind a white
oak or poplar and stared menacingly or growled,
“That’s far enough, young-uns.”

That was our cue to turn around wordlessly and
skedaddle back down the path.

Reuben searched his pockets and came up with
his comb, harmonica, and blue aggie, a beautiful
marble won at the schoolyard recess. He thought long
and hard. He had won the aggie after shooting with
great consideration and focus for

Originally, the statue’s right hand held a sword
and the left hand a bugle, apparent in the 1909 photograph.
The dedication address was given by Walter
Clark, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of North
Carolina. It was the first

In the Cataloochee community, there were two
churches, Palmer Chapel in Cataloochee, a Methodist
congregation, and the Baptist church in Little
Cataloochee, some six miles away by road. Palmer
Chapel was a fine, strongly built frame church, and the
Baptist

Mama and I stepped into the living room and suddenly,
with one great whoosh, Mama sucked all the
oxygen out of the room. Oh no! Where were the soft
bouncy limbs? The glowing lights? The hand-blown
German glass ornaments? The

I would have liked to sit at one of the reading tables
and get lost for hours, but I was expected to meet
my husband at 8:00. I looked around for a staff person—
no one. No cash register, no

We await the return of life each spring. The first
flowers seen are the dandelions, early nourishment for
emerging bees and other pollinators, then bloodroot,
and daffodils. I have set bags of hybrid daffodils in
the perennial beds, but the

Bobby went out on the porch and sat down on the
front steps, pondering everything his mother had said.
He was happy the two families had some connection,
but he was puzzled by his mother’s sadness. He also
knew he

And then, there it was—chugging and clanking
out of a dark, gray, greasy cloud of smoke. OH NO!!
Little Bobby’s mouth fell open and he clapped his
hands over his ears. He had never seen or heard or
smelled anything