In the final day of diaries about working the back wards at Huntington State Hospital in 1983 for nearly three months, an aide tells me the hospital population is far below what it was about a decade ago when more than 1,000 patients lived on The Hill, as patients and staff call the hospital. “There’s a low patient population here. But they’re a mess—the patients.”
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THE LATITUDE of NOW: Looking for real things in unreal times
I should be writing about the dire state of the country since it appears our old America is lost, even as a cohesive resistance begins to coalesce and get its act together. Or maybe I should go touch grass. (Or snow, depending.) A soul just needs to depart Dodge and try to find real, touchable things to look at, ponder or admire before returning to the exhausting front-line fray.
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FIRST/PERSON: Prostitute Pasta & Way-Out Family Restaurants in West Virginia
'I am dreaming of a plate full of fluffy, cheesy scrambled eggs, streaked with a couple of red skid marks of Tabasco and a side plate of triangles of buttered toast. Preferably, wheat. But I will take white, if it is all Minney has got ...'
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Where Walden meets West Virginia
Recently inducted into the West Virginia Music Hall of Fame, Barbara Nissman has a story to tell about how her globetrotting career as an acclaimed pianist landed her deep in the West Virginia hills, where she faced deep loss and artistic renewal.
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FIRST/PERSON: Finding Yo-Yo Ma playing cello in the West Virginia hills
Who was that man bowing a cello against a tree in the New River Gorge? Why, it's none other than one of the world's best known and loved instrumental maestros. And he has something to say as well as to play.
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READINGS: “THE OUTHOUSE: When you have to go, you have to go”
Over there sits a narrow, tiny, upright building of loosely-fitted, weathered boards painted Theravada Buddhist orange. It has a peaked roof covered with black shingles. It is a monk’s outhouse in the Appalachian hills. I know who built it. He’s a friend of mine.
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FIRST/PERSON: Why I Have Four First Names
"They were both the most cussed, stubborn people you’d ever meet, my Dad and Mom, when they come together over something that stood them apart. “Both would not give up their position on the proper naming of you,” said K. “So, they agreed to disagree. And gave you all four names.”
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FIRST/PERSON: ‘A Wild Woman Love Story’
Once upon a time, a round-faced girl with curly hair and identity issues was told by someone (that genuinely loved her) that she was not "model pretty" like her sister but that she could be "mother pretty" ...
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FIRST/PERSON: A few highly personal words on choice
"Three pregnancies. No choice in any of them. I have never chosen to get pregnant. I was foolish, I was sucker-punched, I was surprised. I was naïve, I was savvy. I wasn’t ready, I was ready. Such a basic right that everyone deserves. CHOICE."
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FIRST/PERSON: Traveling West Virginia’s backroads in the Byrdmobile
"I once worked for a man who had been an Exalted Cyclops in the Ku Klux Klan — and I’m proud of it. Not because he was a Klan member more than three-quarters of a century ago, but because of what he became afterward ..."
