[…] other early African American Latter-day Saints. Brother Joseph’s voice was never angry and never hopeless. Nothing could get Brother Joseph to lose faith in God or in the Mormon people. And in that certain, […]
[…] to war. I believe you know my parents, Ed and Jeanie Williams.” Now it was coming to gether in my head. The Williamses, longtime members of the ward, had recently moved to the other […]
[…] to America from Ecuador where I spent two years as a missionary for the Mormon church. My service in Ecuador as a Christian missionary, of course, had very little to do with the medical […]
[…] we reached South Pass. My two younger brothers, Richard and Thomas, being too small to render much service. Five minutes later we are all gathered around the barbecue pit near the ramada where Freida […]
[…] them to dress like that. For several days they spent most of the time in La Casa, writing letters and listening to the radio. I visited them every day, ran errands, and even bought […]
[…] and the accent, the noises money and education make. One word, and it made me want to get smart. It made me think I could read books, adjust my posture, and buy the right […]
[…] Be sure to tape the BYU-Utah game.” “Oh, I’ll remember, and for heaven’s sakes be careful and get home before dark. You don’t want to be driving down that canyon after dark. You could […]
[…] light of it. By the time I graduated from their alma mater with an emphasis in technical writing so I’d never be without a job (al though secretly I devoured women’s lit, so I’d […]
[…] MacKenzie, perhaps saying nothing more than “Mm,” perhaps with the pencil tip in his mouth, thoughtful, perhaps writing down “Positive” or “Negative” when he came to the part about a lab test in a […]
[…] happy about it. “Hi, mi hijo,” she beams back, pronouncing the words in one fluid utterance—”meeho.” I get the uneasy feeling that her enthusiasm is as feigned as mine. I set the thought aside. […]