“Bull? How’d you get that name?”
We were loading our equipment into the car while Bull and Bobby were sitting outside a convenience store in Mounds. Bobby needed a smoke.
“Aw…here we go…” Bull acted put out while at the same time positioning himself to tell the short version of a story he clearly treasured. Continue reading EPOTM: Mounds, OK
Rachel and I were standing outside in the August sun, waiting patiently on a woman to finish her cell phone conversation. She looked like an overdressed Flo, talked with a vernacular that could only be Alabaman, and made eye contact with us every thirty seconds holding up her index finger as if to say, “I’ll be right with you.” Continue reading EPOTM: Little, OK (The Bathroom Ghost)
Dimples slay me.
Regardless of race, age, creed, color or sexual orientation, dimples have always slayed me.
They were the first thing I noticed about Tori. The second was the fact that we were sitting at a picnic table talking to this sixteen year-old girl who had a hundred year-old soul. Continue reading EPTOM: Wewoka, OK (Or…How Tori is Getting Her Groove Back)
Everything about our visit with Willie Simpkins surprised me.
We felt we were too far into the Cromwell countryside to find someone, but there was a home that beckoned us. No one looked home when we pulled into Willie’s driveway, but he answered the door. And although his face looked like “no” was the inevitable answer to our key question, he said yes.
Continue reading EPOTM: Cromwell, OK (or Willie Simpkins and the Board of Education)
The bar stools in Pookie’s restaurant have sustained much more than the weight of those who have sat and eaten “burgers made with love” years on end.
They have held the weight of conversations about Boley exchanged by their occupants.
About the school closing three years ago. Continue reading EPOTM: Boley, OK
