(This is the second part of a series of stories that compose a larger travel memoir. It stands on it’s own. If you’d like to read the previous installment, see it here.) Bill, a middle-aged former CEO and company owner, stood about a little over five and a half feet…
Leave a CommentAuthor: Patrick Dobson
Dr. Patrick Dobson is a work in progress until his termination. In the meantime, He is a writer, scholar, postman, and college professor living in Kansas City, MO.
The University of Nebraska Press published his travel memoirs, Canoeing the Great Plains: A Missouri River Summer in 2015 and Seldom Seen: A Journey into the Great Plains in 2009. Canoeing the Great Plains won the 2016 High Plains Book Award in Creative Nonfiction and the Thorpe Menn Literary Excellence Award. His essays and poems have been published in New Letters, daCunha, Kansas City Star, Garo, Wood Coin, and JONAHmagazine, and others.
Dobson earned a doctorate in American History and Literature at the University of Missouri-Kansas City in 2013. He has edited books, taught journalism, and been a union ironworker. He now teaches American History, Modern Latin American History, and Western Civilization at Johnson County Community College in Overland Park, KS.
He looks forward to hearing from you soon.
My breath caught in my chest as I looked over my shoulder. It looked like Sydney was going to fall 800 feet to the bottom of Canyon de Chelly. As we walked, we couldn’t move farther from the edge. The great rock faces of the bluffs, covered with hues of…
Leave a CommentNick had a choice. He could prune vines or go on poop patrol. He chose vine pruning. Maybe it was having a choice or having to work outside, but he faced the day cheerfully. We planned working in the yard a couple of hours and he pulled his shoes on…
Leave a CommentSydney just didn’t get what I wanted. That, or she wasn’t communicating with me in a way I could understand. We weren’t lost. I just didn’t know which way to go. I asked her to let me see the map. She wouldn’t. I thought that if I could get a…
Leave a CommentTen years ago in June, after months of politicking, cajoling, and wheedling, I stood out in a thundetstorm and shoveled what used to be horse manure, leaves, and tree limbs into a hole the size of a half a tennis court. Nine tons of topsoil made from these fine ingredients…
Leave a Comment