Page comments

Rosemary Lombard — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 12:02:30 -0700

WOW! Terrific, heart-in-the-throat story. It reminds me of riding in a logging truck for the first and only time. My uncle had arranged it with a driver friend, and I remember the apprehension going down a steep grade on a northwest Washington logging road--a drop-off on the right, a full load of logs out the back window above me conveying a palpable sense of their pull to gravity, air brakes working hard, no ramps anywhere. "What do we do if the brakes fail?" I asked. "Just pray," he said, and braked to the bottom of the mountain.

Winstroll — Sat, 04 Jun 2011 08:11:37 -0700

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John Kuenneth — Sun, 10 Apr 2011 20:23:32 -0700

The faithfulness to their heritage exhibited by this small band is moving to behold. They continue carefully to witness and share their culture and values within the tribal family. The beauty of their traditional ornaments and symbols lovingly executed eloquently signify their identity as a people and the strength of their living spirituality. Kudos to the young women blessed by their transition ceremony. Kudos to the reporter and photographer whose images have so intimately and respectfully introduced us to a noble people whom I, at least, had not been aware until now. The power boat of folks not obeying the "voluntary" closure during the sacred rite is the perfect emblem of our own arrogance toward the native peoples who preceded us in this land, the BIA and its blunders notwithstanding.

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Kathy Powell — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 21:56:05 -0800

Wow. It took my breath away. Again and again. You story lays in my brain where it will lay all day, turning over and over. You truns and falls brnging the sotry back to an eariler place and laying in back in is enchanting. Keep writing. I want to go the the Redmond airport and find you. K

Mon, 21 Feb 2011 01:04:57 -0800

I love this. Thank you. Simply that.

Rob Childers — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 09:23:52 -0800

A small but important detail, if it "stinks", it isn't fresh. Your writing is definitely fresh, and most certainly doesn't stink.Thank you for keeping it real.

Annemarie — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 15:53:45 -0800

Carol’s lyrical essay on sound, flight, names, and memory brings together seemingly disparate elements in an elegant, even magical way. I love the recurrent sound imagery of the lover saying her name and the wind sounding like waves and rivers, all framed by memories both painful and sweet. The metaphor of flight, which permeates much of Carol’s work, circles through and around this essay so that the memories are clearly looped together but also take flight on their own as well. A beautifully written piece. I can’t wait to read more.