Karlyle Tomms - A Personal Story Yesterday, my aunt was laid to rest. Cold Arkansas wind sawed at our ears as we stood beside the grave site, an omen of snow to fall later. There, beneath a sagging cedar, by a rusted wire fence, she was put down next to the man who had abandoned her with five children and a hundred dollars to her name. Faithful to him always, she kept her commitment, ‘Till death do us part,’ and kept it long after he departed. She nev

By Karlyle Tomms She eloped across the county line at fourteen, lied about her age, and married a man almost twice her age. He probably would have been arrested in today's world, but in 1923, it was a different world for women and children, at least slightly different. She came back and told her Pa, “I ran off and got married. What do you think of that?” He said, “I think you have made your bed, and you are gonna lie in it.” It was not an easy bed to lie in. No sooner had

On the day my father died, I found a black feather on my way back from lunch, standing straight up in the grass as though it had been planted there. Having been taught by some of my metaphysically minded friends that feathers are angel signs, I picked them up and took them back to my office. The feather was old and tattered. The bristles were frayed and barely holding together. A black feather can symbolize death, or the finishing of a chapter in our lives. Within an hour, m

Moments of Peace Karlyle Tomms 7/30/16 Pinnacle Mountain stands alone along the Arkansas River, and from the I-630 bridge appears like a burned-out volcano in the distance. It isn’t. It takes about two or three hours to climb the mountain from the park at the base to the boulder-covered peak. The trails become ever steeper near the top, and climbing over boulders is required to complete the journey. Once there, the views are specta

By Karlyle Tomms Three words came to mind the first time I saw her –weird, strange, and goofy. She was older than the rest of us. She had at least ten, perhaps twenty, years on us, but there she stood among college students ranging in age from eighteen to twenty-one. Her hair was auburn, almost more red than brown, and she wore a floral bandanna wrapped around her head, tied beneath her hair at the back. Her hair was straight and neck-length, falling thick over the folds

The eastern Ozarks of Arkansas are not quite as grand as those to the west. Here, the Ozark Mountains begin to roll gradually into the Mississippi Delta. There are still lakes, lush forests, and plenty of rocks of almost every type. However, there are more flat pastures that are better suited to growing crops like cotton, corn, and hay. When I was a child, my grandparents still raised cotton, and some of my earliest memories are of working in the cotton fields. There was

I understand hate. I have felt rage so intense that it incites to kill. I have felt seething, malignant resentment so extreme that it...

(NOTE: I have been surprised by the number of people (All white people so far) who have completely missed the point of this essay. This is not a justification for using the word, especially in the context of demeaning people. A white person singing the lyrics of a rap song that contains the word "nigger" may or may not be using the word with prejudice. There are other contexts in which someone who is not black can use the word with absolutely no prejudice intended. The point

Yesterday, my aunt was laid to rest. Cold Arkansas wind sawed at our ears as we stood beside the grave site, an omen of snow to fall later. There, beneath a sagging cedar, by a rusted wire fence, she was put down next to the man who had abandoned her with five children and a hundred dollars to her name. Faithful to him always, she kept her commitment, ‘Till death do us part,’ and kept it long after he departed. She never thought to remarry. She made one commitment only and d

A glass of wine, a magazine, and the porch swing in warm weather, back against a pillow, wind chimes, and hummingbirds. This is my definition of heaven. I don't remember seeing them as a child, even though I grew up on a small farm in the Ozark hills where hummingbirds are plentiful. You might think I would have seen at least one during my eighteen years on that farm, but I never did. I remember seeing documentaries about them on TV and wishing I could see one. I looked for

New Year—new beginnings. Everyone thinks about this transition every year as one year rolls over into the other. Goals and resolutions are made, sometimes seriously, most often half-heartedly. Each year, we vow to start anew, set out on a different course in life, and yet the course seems to remain the same, with only minor adjustments to the trajectory. Here we go again. What course have you planned for this year? We ask each other about the resolutions, the goals, t