On this 4th of July, I’m honoring the service of our Revolutionary War ancestors, including my great-great-great-great-grandfather Malachi Francis. He was born April 21, 1764, in Halifax Co., VA, and enlisted as a private on April 1, 1777, just before
It wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, or the worst, even for Memphis. I had started out trying to track down local art galleries, looking for one that would carry my paintings for the Memphis market. Not finding any, I had
As we inch our way through this election season, one that is particularly tainted with extremism, intolerance and hate, I keep thinking of my father, Lee Ellis Dowell. He served in WWII and stood up against that very kind of extremism,
The rural farming area in Kentucky where I am from had been very diverse in my grandparents’ time and before. All that had changed when I was growing up; by then, there was only one Black person living in the
As soon as I pulled the old photo out of the box the other day, I remembered it and the day, decades before, that my aunt first showed it to me. We had been going through old family photos and
We are all connected. We are one.
I must have been a vagabond or a nomad in a past life, for travel has always felt magical to me. It truly is about the journey, not the destination.
A few years ago, I got the opportunity to make my first trip to Tokyo. The big concern that everyone seemed to have about going to Japan was in understanding the cultural differences. I studied the suggested cultural guidelines as
No-one should have to bear such a burden of grief and regret. Tears came to my eyes. I struggled to breathe. I walked from room to room, but there was no relief. I stepped outside and the weight was lifted.
I was recently standing in the salsa and condiment aisle at the grocery, innocently scanning the shelves for the perfect organic mustard. A woman stepped right beside me, quietly scanning the shelf as well. After a few moments, she turned