A Place of Light and Hope Story and Photos by Bren Slade The light was dim inside the ambulance. My daughter lay breathing but unresponsive. Were there windows? I don’t remember. It was Christmas Eve. Five months earlier,
A Thunderbird Convertible By Max Jenkins On a pleasant evening in Grangeville in July 1955, I came home early from work and was helping Mom set the table when Dad pulled into the driveway. He’d been honking halfway
An Unstoppable Little Brother By Karlene Bayok Edwards Photos courtesy of the author Ronny must have been almost four when he followed our dog Pete into the woods. We lived on a hill outside McCall and much of
A Struggle to Survive By Kirk and Madeline David In the summer of 2015, as we sat on our porch enjoying a sunny afternoon at our northern Idaho home on forested acreage just a few miles south of
The Store as Polestar By Nancy Max Photos Courtesy of Nancy Max In late 1945, when my dad accepted a job checking groceries in the Eden store, our family moved there from Twin Falls. We lived in a
Uncle Sam Calls a Six-Year-Old By Ed Marohn Photos courtesy of Ed Marohn I stared at the framed certificate hanging on the wall with the other mounted items in my office—a sunny windowed room in our empty-nester home
A Call to Yesteryear By Julie Conrad Photos courtesy of Julie Conrad Smelling the sweet scent of overripe huckleberries, I ditch my car and walk along the lane where our old cabin still stands, although our family doesn’t
The Challenge of Alzheimer’s By Lorie Palmer Russell Photos courtesy of Lorie Palmer Russell. “I don’t know how I got these bruises.” My eighty-one-year-old mother, Estella Arlene Faurot Palmer, showed me her tiny arm. “Do you remember you
Did It Have to Be That Song? By Clell G. Ballard Back in 1966, my then-fiancee Marilyn made plans for our wedding in our home church, one of Fairfield’s most important buildings, right on Main Street. That was
A Thing Full of Potential By Karlene Bayok Edwards “Joe, if that parachute is from the dump, the kids can’t touch it until I’ve washed it,” Mother said. Dad stood at the edge of our yard in McCall,
