Spoon Theory
Morgan DePue on how good memories, childhood trauma, and chronic pain can all rest in the hollow of that wooden spoon you hold in your hand.
Morgan DePue on how good memories, childhood trauma, and chronic pain can all rest in the hollow of that wooden spoon you hold in your hand.
An Episcopal priest’s poem ponders what we mean when we ask the question, “And who is my neighbor?”
Atlanta’s Abra Lee is on a quest to recognize Black America’s greatest horticulturists.
A short story about a North Carolina country woman who takes a bus into a better, brighter life — but one that lasts only for a day.
A special message to everyone who’s visiting us for the first time from Georgia Public Broadcasting.
Poet Joshua Lavender, a South Georgia native, brings us verses that resurrect how folks talk in the country.
Last week, Charles McNair brought us the story of the 50-year reunion of the Dothan High School class of 1972, the first fully integrated class in that Alabama town. This week, his friend James “Shack” Thompson brings us a remembrance of the Black high school that closed when desegregation happened.
Dr. Deidra Suwannee Dees ponders the question: How does the money from the offering plate get all the way to God?
Rob Rushin-Knopf examines two books that explore how White-owned news outlets in the 20th century perpetuated Jim Crow — and how Black journalists like Ida Mae Wells and W.E.B. DuBois battled back.
A poem that recounts the remarkable story of the author’s great-grandmother, Alma Davenport, who was born in Pheba, Mississippi, in 1898.
In 1969, the year Charles McNair entered the 10th grade, the Dothan, Alabama, public schools finally integrated. This year, the Dothan High Class of 1972 held its 50-year reunion, where joyous, authentic and honest conversations happened across the lines of race.
Welcoming writers into the Salvation South fold means we get to make new friends all the time.
George Lancaster ponders his growing need to rekindle friendships with other men — and the value of male fellowship as the years fly by.