Thank You, Loretta Young
Another story, posted here, by my sister Joanne West Cornish: When I was 21, I finally became a teacher. I was assigned a school and anxiously awaited getting to my “future,” a future I had…
Author Archives: Dianne West Short
My Favorite Cereal
Breakfasts for kids in the 1950s meant cardboard cereal boxes on the table, full of cereals that were well advertised on our new 9″ screen television set. The Lone Ranger was sponsored by General Mills…
Borrowed Celebrity
In 1957 my family took the annual car trip, this time to California by way of the Grand Canyon and the Giant Redwood Forest. “Getting there” was the most miserable part of our trips, but…
My Brother Steve
(This story was written by my sister, Joanne) March 28, 1999, my “brother” Steve died. His half-brother René Lawrence, who grew up a self-described fatherless bastard and became a failed rock musician, called to tell…
Taken for a Ride
As my 75th birthday present, my sister-in-law gifted me airfare to join her in New York City. Her instructions, sent by email, were to take an Uber to the downtown hotel. I had heard often…
Secret of the Blind Wives
For many, so many years the women of the Tribe of Man had one purpose. It was to marry and produce offspring for their husbands. The wives had no riches of their own as…
The Window
She watched from the window, the view changing, just as she stayed unchanged. In the past, her clothing changed often but now she wore the same red dress day after day, the shoulders becoming sun-bleached,…
Neighborhood Safety
My neighbor Elaine told me a story. She and husband Steve lived in a big house across the street built by his grandparents. The large basement held a walk-in, steel-door safe. The safe’s door had…
Scandal
In a small town, gossip is an enthusiastic social activity. Topics surround, naturally enough, religious no-no’s. The forbidden. Whispers about who is having an affair, who is an alcoholic, who has a violent marriage, who…
Honesty
Honesty can be overrated. In the 1950s, our parents sent their daughters to a “fancy” girls camp in Kerrville, Texas, where campers swam in the Guadalupe River, sang songs around a campfire, lounged under the…
A Reminiscence
A story printed in 1920 in the Corsicana Daily Sun satirically recounting a trip made by local Hella Shrine families to Portland, Oregon. (My own great-grandparents, Bige and Molly Tinkle were among them. The photograph…
“Pale Death” by Lois Toone West
This is a bare partial manuscript of a story written by my mother while a journalism student at SMU in the 1970s. I have searched and have been unable to find more of the manuscript.…
Greeks Bearing Gifts
A hot summer day spent climbing over ancient Athenian ruins in 1964 became more uncomfortable back in the air-conditioning of our hotel. After the five of us had dragged in, showered, washed the sweat…
Journey
My grandson’s bus is late…or I’m early. He’s six and someone walks to meet the school bus each day; today it’s me. I settle on the low curb in the available shade of a dried-out…
Afterthoughts
A clipboard and pen were poised in the hands of the young man standing in the hotel lobby. He wore khaki shorts above strong, tanned legs, anchored by dusty hiking boots and a whistle on…
Wolf Brand history
This is a brochure I recently created for the Corsicana Main Street Project. Wolf Brand is part of our family history as well as a part of Corsicana history. J. C. West was my grandfather,…
South Texas Justice
Texas has always remained close to its Mexican heritage. Just how close that can be in some of the most southern of our 254 counties can at times bewilder even a fellow Texan from a…
Elephantine Memories
A downtown parade was among the most exciting events of a childhood spent in a small Texas town. In our old family albums are photos taken by my grandfather of the…
Adolescent Angst
I still flash on embarrassing memories that make me cringe inside, especially those that happened during the years from 12 to about 18 when we are all most vulnerable to self-criticism. My sister and I,…
Grace at Christmas
It was bone cold, the wind sending chilly gusts around our legs and up loose backs of our jackets. I pushed my muffler up to warm my nose. We were three American visitors steadily working…
