Professional relationships are a high-touch antidote to a high-tech, AI-driven world.
I grew up as a Cold War kid. We experienced nuclear raid drills. (Sort of a joke—we bent over our desks and covered our heads with our hands.) A farcical, disturbing movie, “The Russians Are Coming,” triggered a recurring nightmare for me where Russian/Soviet soldiers knocked on everyone’s doors and put polio braces on all…
My little-girl self was terrified of the deserted farmhouse up a dirt road from the suburb where I grew up in the 1960s. The family who had lived there still owned the land and rented the pasture and barn to local horse owners. The abandoned house seemed to be crumbling into the ground. When my…
I walked into Margene’s Wagstaff’s office in the spring of 1977 wearing a jean skirt that I’d embroidered with flowers and a gauzy peasant top. My hippy garb was out of place with Margene’s prim and proper attire. She wore a coordinated sweater set and plaid skirt with pearls and classy loafers. We couldn’t have…
One of my most memorable childhood gifts came when I was five years old on Christmas Eve in 1961. Dressed in my “Sunday best” outfit at my grandparents’ farm house. This picture captures my memory. But irony and coincidence also lurk invisibly in the background of this image. We had just feasted on Grandma Esther’s…
—Lois Storlie’s Reflections, curated and written by her daughter, Jean Storlie. I really liked growing up on the farm. It was a simple life, but my dad and grandpa were big teases. They stirred up mischeif and kept me on my toes! Working in the Field My dad taught me how to drive the team…
Two weeks ago, my sister sent me an email urging me to apply my sewing skills to make COVID-19 masks. At that point, I’d seen reports that the homemade masks inadequately protect healthcare professionals―and give the general public a false sense of security. So, I resisted (maybe I was slightly lazy, too). She pushed back.…
Grandpa Bill used to say, “Three moves are as good as a fire.” I thought of this quip many times this summer when we downsized from a sprawling suburban two-story home to a cozy, mid-century modern house on a creek. At first, deciding what to do with every single possession we’d accumulated during 29 years…
Sewing machines buzzed around me, as I quickly loaded another zipper and started to sew. My co-worker at the next station was sewing like a whirling dervish. Her hands flew up and down, back and forth. She installed zippers on sleeping bags at a rate of 90-100/hour. The handlers, who kept supplies stocked and removed…
The late-November afternoon sun cast a gloomy mood on Jackson’s day. The Sunday Scaries haunted him. His dad and he were listening to classic rock on the radio on their way to the grocery store. At 12 years old, he had been taking guitar lessons for three years. His second guitar teacher, Toby, had recently…