14 Ergebnisse.

Lee Payne sat alone on a park bench, gripping the worn leather journal to his chest and facing the Lady in the Harbor. President Grover Cleveland had dedicated her on a blustery autumn day last year. Lee thought of the immigrants but, above all, of the Irish street urchin called Malachi OMalley and the lofty promise the president had made that we would not neglect one of them. Just a few years ago, Lees family had been willing to fight althoug...

Lee Payne sat alone on a park bench, gripping the worn leather journal to his chest and facing the Lady in the Harbor. President Grover Cleveland had dedicated her on a blustery autumn day last year. Lee thought of the immigrants but, above all, of the Irish street urchin called Malachi OMalley and the lofty promise the president had made that we would not neglect one of them. Just a few years ago, Lees family had been willing to fight althoug...

Jane Bennett Gaddy has captured in her third installment of the Payne family, JOAB, a piece of the history for Faulkner's "little postage stamp of native soil" with a combination of history and fiction. She places Joab in Oxford, known as Jefferson in the Faulkner novels, at a time when this town was at its lowest. History and fiction sometimes come together and Gaddy has given us something, as Oxonians, to think about in our "little postage s...

Jane Bennett Gaddy has captured in her third installment of the Payne family, JOAB, a piece of the history for Faulkner's "little postage stamp of native soil" with a combination of history and fiction. She places Joab in Oxford, known as Jefferson in the Faulkner novels, at a time when this town was at its lowest. History and fiction sometimes come together and Gaddy has given us something, as Oxonians, to think about in our "little postage s...

Keine Beschreibung.

Keine Beschreibung.

Summer wheat, heavy with grain, waved in the July wind, and when touched by the afternoon sun, cast a golden glow on the rocks of Cemetery Ridge. Jonathan stood with his countrymen, rifle drawn, wiping sweat from his eyes with the sleeve of a ragged Confederate uniform. Then the nod, Longstreet to Pickett, whose men charged screaming the blood-curdling Rebel yell. Brave soldiers, strength pressed to the breach, fell like autumn leaves. Blood r...

Rachel, After the Darkness is a continuation of the struggle in which Jane Gaddy intricately describes the South following the war and during the reunification of a broken Nation. Rachel?s husband and son are gone, having fallen at Gettysburg. Three sons have married, and Rachel and her youngest, Samuel, are left alone to run the small farm in northeast Mississippi. The darkness represents a time that never should have been, and in her thought...

Rachel, After the Darkness is a continuation of the struggle in which Jane Gaddy intricately describes the South following the war and during the reunification of a broken Nation. Rachel?s husband and son are gone, having fallen at Gettysburg. Three sons have married, and Rachel and her youngest, Samuel, are left alone to run the small farm in northeast Mississippi. The darkness represents a time that never should have been, and in her thought...

Lee sat in the window facing the Bridge as calmly as his emotions would allow, waiting the moment when this day would enhance his life's story. He drank the last of his coffee, spoke good-day to the waiter, and walked out into the morning mist off the East River. He strode toward the Bridge, many thoughts crowding his youthful mind. He had one more thing to do and now was the time-

Lee sat in the window facing the Bridge as calmly as his emotions would allow, waiting the moment when this day would enhance his life's story. He drank the last of his coffee, spoke good-day to the waiter, and walked out into the morning mist off the East River. He strode toward the Bridge, many thoughts crowding his youthful mind. He had one more thing to do and now was the time-

Summer wheat, heavy with grain, waved in the July wind, and when touched by the afternoon sun, cast a golden glow on the rocks of Cemetery Ridge. Jonathan stood with his countrymen, rifle drawn, wiping sweat from his eyes with the sleeve of a ragged Confederate uniform. Then the nod, Longstreet to Pickett, whose men charged screaming the blood-curdling Rebel yell. Brave soldiers, strength pressed to the breach, fell like autumn leaves. Blood r...

I was born in the flat fertile Mississippi Delta in 1940. I grew up in a white clapboard plantation house, on the heels of the Great Depression, when cotton was still running the show in the south, and well before the Civil Rights Movement. Love took me out of the Delta, and it was love that brought me back, for there are some things that cannot be forgotten or left behind. So, here it is. After all the years that have come and gone, here is a...

I was born in the flat fertile Mississippi Delta in 1940. I grew up in a white clapboard plantation house, on the heels of the Great Depression, when cotton was still running the show in the south, and well before the Civil Rights Movement. Love took me out of the Delta, and it was love that brought me back, for there are some things that cannot be forgotten or left behind. So, here it is. After all the years that have come and gone, here is a...