A ghost of Christmas past

Growing up, I learned that although holidays were the best thing ever, there was also a very real chance that something would go wrong anytime we gathered for a family meal or opened presents. We went to Grandma Wright’s on Christmas Eve, but we went to Granny Conn’s house for…

And the care we gave each other

One night, I dreamt that my granny was lying on her couch and I was sitting beside her, and I knew in my dream that she was dying. It was the couch in her living room, where she napped after fixing me Sunday supper for the first twelve years of…

Our hearts live in these hills, bound to these hollers

The Appalachians are among the oldest mountains on Earth, born of powerful upheavals within the terrestrial crust and sculpted by the ceaseless action of water upon the surface. — Encyclopedia Britannica

Those mountains still stand, mostly intact, though smaller now than they must have been in the Precambrian era, or…


I struggled to understand my father. Here’s what I do know about him.

There are some things you should understand about this man, the man who fathered me:


He looks like almost every other baby ever born: red-faced, hairless, eyes closed. His cries pierce the quiet country desolation and scatter among the last brittle oak leaves of winter. Spring is coming.


Middle child…

Bobi Conn

Author of In the Shadow of the Valley — A Memoir. Read more about my work at bobiconn.com.

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