About Us

In October 2008, in an attempt to get my mother, then 87, to finish writing the memoir she had begun years earlier, I talked her into enrolling in a six-week memoir-writing class at the local senior center. We were the only two students present. The next week, there was one more, and then a third, and soon we had six students. The instructor left a month or so after the class began, and we were on our own.

Two years later, we were still writing. Once a week, every week, we pulled our chairs up to a big, round table in the senior center "craft room" and, surrounded by a jumble of Christmas ornaments, scraps of cloth, and other bric-a-brac, we read aloud what we had written during the week.

Because I'm a professional writer, the others quickly decided that I would become their teacher. I was also the youngest in the group by at least 25 years. Most of the other writers were in the eighties. The eldest was 99.

The group was of crucial importance, a source of motivation and inspiration. We became closer than we had ever thought possible. We laughed a lot. If our stories had never left the room, writing them down would have been worthwhile for the friendships we made with each other.

We created our blog with family and friends in mind. We hope it will inspire others to do the same. Together, our stories make up a kind of collective memoir of the twentieth century in America, with a particular emphasis on the small Vermont town of Randolph.