Stories worth preserving.

"She packed one suitcase and a tin of photographs. On the boat she taught herself three English phrases: "thank you," "I am sorry," and "where is the library?""

"We did not talk about the war in our house. But every November my father would go to the garage alone and stay there until dinner. One year I followed him. He was just sitting, holding a photograph of men I did not know."

"The diner opened on a Tuesday with twelve dollars in the register and my mother's biscuit recipe taped to the inside of the cabinet door. Forty-one years later, that same piece of paper is still there."

"Grandpa said a good song is just a true thing said in the right order. He never recorded any of them. But I remember every word."

"She learned to drive at sixty-two. Said she had spent forty years going where other people were going and it was time to go somewhere herself. She drove to the coast alone and called us from a payphone on the beach."