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Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh PalCousin Fred leaned forward in his chair and stage-whispered, “She left the babies in the bed and ran off with a salesman.” So many questions went through my head. What could compel a woman of the 1860s to leave three young boys sleeping in their beds and flee with a stranger? Why did Fred have nothing to say about her husband, my great-grandfather? Where did she go and how did it work out for her?
The reason for Lydia’s shocking decision was lost to history for over 100 years—until I stumbled across her yellowed and tattered journals in my great-uncle’s trunk. Now the truth can be told.
Elaine Crume
I was gently reared in rural Kentucky by hard-working God-fearing parents, children of the depression, who were determined that their offspring would have the educational advantages they did not. The youngest of three children, I was born asking “why”. When the answers were not forthcoming or satisfying, I grew restless. My college career took me beyond my parent’s safe boundaries of church and learning a trade. They frantically and ineffectively tried to put the toothpaste back in the tube. I left home at seventeen, and while I never had an urge to go back, the roots of my rearing always manage to push through the hard rocky soil of all my words and deeds.
In retrospect I suppose I have lived a restless life although it never seemed so as events unfolded. I have lived in Lexington Ky, Washington DC, New York, San Francisco, Richmond Virginia and most recently in Denver CO. My husband and I have traveled extensively through Europe and especially enjoy spending time in the Mini Pyrenees region of France.
I have always been compelled to write, most frequently in the quiet hours of the morning, for I am a lark living among owls. For years I scribbled words in notebooks, on envelopes, on scraps of paper that I left scattered about. Much of that is lost to me now through many moves and changes in my life. Finally, in 2004 my oldest son handed me a URL for blogspot. The medium gave me an audience, opened the eyes of my soul, and allowed me to grow both as a writer and a person. I started several more, readership grew, and writing consumed more and more of my time. I submitted a few short pieces for publication. The first time I actually got paid for one I realized my hobby might be something more.
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