My father would load my sister and me into his ‘52 Chevy truck, and he’d steer down the gravel road leading to the homestead where my mom was raised.
The radio played Loretta Lynn and Faron Young as the wind whipped through the cab. Dad would shift the three-on-the-tree and the 6-cylinder hummed as we headed to our destination.
We were on our way to pick blackberries.
My mother’s parents raised their six children on a homestead in the unincorporated county community of Fomby, Arkansas.
It’s ...
Continue Reading →JAN
2021