hidden in a locked drawer. I found it after she died. Her senior year. 1974. I flipped through it. A boy signed the back page: “To Margaret. I will find you again. I promise. Love, James.” My mother kept a high school yearbook
The heavy oak front door of Mama’s house stayed propped open with a rusted cast-iron doorstop for three days while I went through sixty-eight years of accumulated papers, jars of …
hidden in a locked drawer. I found it after she died. Her senior year. 1974. I flipped through it. A boy signed the back page: “To Margaret. I will find you again. I promise. Love, James.” My mother kept a high school yearbook Read More