Monday, September 01 2014


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Personal Voice

This Ain’t Your Grandma’s Pound Cake By Susan Elzey

Will there be consequences to pay in the life after this one for changing the family pound cake recipe? A granddaughter can only hope not.

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Most Current Articles in Personal Voice

Army Intelligence

Most of the performances for his band were as the background music at parties for the army brass. The band would play quietly while people visited, ate dinner, or whatever. But one day his commanding officer came to him.

By Daris Howard
Where Everyone Knows You

As my wife, Donna, and I were dating and were trying to learn more about each other, our differences quickly became apparent. She grew up in Los Angeles, and I grew up in the middle of nowhere.

By Daris Howard
What Honor Really Means

Every summer, many of the small communities form youth softball teams for a tournament. But the year I was 14, there was an abundance of young men in my rural community. The older boys decided that they didn’t want us younger boys playing with them.

By Daris Howard
Sacrifice And Forgiveness

When he boarded the train for his home in France, he was viewed with great suspicion. Alexandra, with her blond hair and blue eyes, was clearly German.

By Daris Howard
Where Food Comes From

Interesting results can occur when people from one walk of life crosses the boundary into the other. Now and then I watch as someone experiences what it is like crossing those boundaries.

By Daris Howard
A Change Of Heart

At first Isaac balked at the idea of raising a child of the enemy who had killed his family. But he realized he needed Alexandra as much as she needed him.

By Daris Howard
An Understanding Of Innocence

Isaac’s entire family had been killed by the Germans. He joined the war with revenge being his only desire.

By Daris Howard
Forgiving the Soldiers Who Killed His Family

How do you forgive the soldiers who gathered your wife and children into a church, locked the doors, and then set fire to it?

By Daris Howard
The Wrong Kind Of Gas

Only two miles from where I grew up was a dude ranch called “The Fun Farm.” There, overlooking the river, were nice campsites with fire pits and limited amenities.

By Daris Howard