Category Archives: QuotaBill

Broken Child to Healing Woman

Leave a reply

Willis Jefferson loved and respected Rowena Kramer as if she was his own loving mother. It was her influence in his life that enabled him to be the man of courage we find in this excerpt from “Bluebell“. But you might not have expected the child introduced in Dad’s book, “Rowena”, to grow into this remarkable woman.

It was early in the Fall of 1886, as the opening pages of “Rowena” unfolded, when this scene took place…

The coach was comfortably warm, but, huddled next to the large, glowering man, the child’s appearance suggested that no amount of external warmth could dispel the chill that gripped her.

As the train neared it’s next stop, the little girl…shivered and glanced up furtively. “Garwood, Papa?”

With the man’s brusque nod, offering nothing more than annoyed acknowledgement, a second tremor gripped the tiny body; and, drawing her knees tight against herself, she moved closer to him.

Glaring down, he snapped: “Don’t get so close, child, you’ll muss my suit!”  He cuffed her leg with a huge hand.  “And get your feet off the seat.”

Blinking back the tears she obeyed, and sought to become one with the cushions.

Garwood was the small town where Rowena’s father left her at the train station, because his girlfriend didn’t like having the child around, to be picked up by a a man he’d never talked with or met.

Fortunately, Rowena’s childhood years were mostly good but her adult life could largely be described as tragic. Yet when she appears as a character in “Bluebell”, we hear nothing but great things about her.

Willis was not alone in his special feelings for Rowena Kramer; there were many others.  They came and went in a seemingly endless parade, some staying only for a meal, some for a day, a week or longer.  They were young, old, and in-between.  Mostly, they were men and boys, but occasionally a member of the fairer sex was taken under Miss Rowena’s wing.  No matter the gender, problem or need, however, all shared a common bond: No one leaving her was ever less than better for the experience, nor was that separation ever complete.  Within her spirit was that which engendered, and exacted, love from every life she touched.   

Often, the human spirit is known for it’s tenacity and toughness, yet also for generating tenderness and tranquility. Miss Rowena seems to have been capable of all of those.

What About You?

  • Tell us about a person showing Miss Rowena-isms in your life
  • Visit other QuotaBill articles
  • Take a Chance (Spoiler Alert: Could be something free in your future)

A Great Force for Good

Leave a reply

Her name was Rowena Kramer.  She was a white woman with a heart for everyone.  Willis Jefferson had lived with her over ten years after she rescued him from a storm, and not just one involving the weather.  Did she have an impact on his life?  Check out the following “QuotaBill” from dad’s book, “Bluebell” and see what you think.

“Anyone privy to the details of Willis Jefferson’s childhood would have seen Rowena Kramer as a greater force in his life than he might ever know.  Not only had she taught him about life, and instilled in him a love of it, she had implanted the need to share that love with all of God’s creatures.”

Her impact went beyond teaching him to clean up his room or play nicely with the neighbor kids.  It went to the soul of his being, as evidenced by this excerpt from “Bluebell”.

Has someone had a significant impact in your life?  I’d love to hear about it and you never know, maybe your comment will be just what someone else needs to be that ‘helpful’ person in a life.

What’s Next?

  • Learn what you can’t know about someone based on their possessions.
  • Read more about Miss Rowena.
  • Receive updates from Read My Dad’s Stuff – Just say “Sign Me Up”

Ten Years of Love

Leave a reply

Less than 360 words into “Bluebell”, Rowena Kramer’s name has been mentioned three times by Willis Jefferson, a young black man on a road taking him where he never expected to go.  And, as we look at today’s QuotaBill, we learn, to some degree, the impact this woman had on Willis’ life.

“Miss Rowena,” he whispered, and tears blurred his vision.  He had been about twelve when she took him in, and he had stayed for over ten years.  It was the nearly four years, since then, that held his attention, and he wondered if leaving had been a mistake.  Been a long time.  He thought.  “A long time….”

What kind of woman was this whose memory brought tears to the eyes of a courageous young man?  To help you find out, here are three articles & two excerpts that will help introduce you to Rowena Kramer.  And what about Willis?  There’s much to learn about him in these recent posts…

 

Life was Black and White

Leave a reply

Willis Jefferson, a lead character in my dad’s novel, “Bluebell”, was about twenty-six and walking toward trouble, in the book’s opening pages, while reminiscing about a woman featured in two other stories by my father.

“Long ago it had ceased to trouble him that he could love a white woman as deeply as his own mother; and there were times when the two, both so kind, giving and loving, became as one, inseparable.  Because of Miss Rowena he could read, write and speak correctly.  But far beyond that, her teachings had also reinforced those of his mother, which, having seemed inapplicable, he had been ready to cast aside.”

Think Rowena had an impact on this man?  For over 10 years, she had been a force of love in his life; one that challenged him to go where he should go, whatever the cost.  Hopefully, the novel will be available to purchase soon but until I make that announcement, here’s a few ways to dig deeper into my dad’s writings.

  1. Get a FREE short story – I’ve selected three of dad’s to choose from and all you have to do is pick your favorite and let me know which it is.
  2. Learn about Miss Rowena – You’ll find links to previous articles about her, a brief synopsis of “Rowena” and even a free downloadable copy of the book.
  3. Follow our Social Media platforms – There’s a Facebook page for Read My Dad’s Stuff and you can find Miss Rowena on Twitter.

A Tree’s Dirt

Leave a reply

Trees have appeared in these pages before but today, in this QuotaBill post, one brings us a story, and perhaps, a lesson.

For several days the tree had been watching the men in gray digging into the earth, and piling rocks one on top of another.  She had seen them roll cannon into place behind the rocks, and knew, as did the other forest inhabitants, what was to take place.

The tree had seen it many times; and come to recognize it as the curse humankind had brought to their world.  As with the animals, the faces changed with each generation, but the species remained much the same, and always there was death… death for the humans… death for those of nature.

What the tree saw, during this excerpt from a short story set during the American Civil War, we still see far too often in our society; mankind’s failure to resolve issues, individually or culturally, without resorting to violence.

As I mentioned at the start of this post, trees have been featured here before and by following the links below, you’ll be directed back into the forest for a look at these stunning landmarks of the woodlands.

Save a Tree (an earlier QuotaBill post)

Facing Difficulties (first Graphically Said post)

Save a Tree

Leave a reply

Who writes about a tree?  If my GoodSearch results were any indication [over 76 million items], quite a lot of people and one of them is my Dad.  In fact, he’s written a couple of stories about them but in this initial installment of “QuotaBills“, I’m only sharing from one.

In “A Tree for Tomorrow” dad tells a little of who he is and maybe, more than that, gives us a glimpse into this thing called humanity.  After recounting a visit to the home of his youth and finding it being razed, he longed to know that something other than memories of his birthplace would survive, but expected nothing would, not even the tree he and his father had planted.  Here’s the rest of the story

It was several months before a business trip afforded me a viable excuse to revisit my place of birth.  With each passing mile the need to prepare myself became more acute.  It is one thing to consider the inevitable, but being face to face and forced to accept it, can be difficult.  Then, with a final click of the turn indicators, a slight hiss from the brakes, I was there.

It may be for the eyes to collect images, the brain to decode them, and the mind to classify and store them; but it is the heart that interprets.  In what my eyes perceived, my heart found the true bittersweet: The most depressing low, the most exhilarating high.  Tears of joy mingled shamelessly with those of sadness, for there, surrounded by several hundred square feet of sterile concrete, standing in serene majesty was my sycamore tree.

There’s more to this story and other tales of trees in the future but for now, I’d like to hear from you.  Have you experienced one of these disheartening lows followed by a most exhilarating high?  What has being all too human looked like in your life?