Ronda Rich's blog

Stories they told

Ronda Rich's picture

My parents told great stories. I’ve told you that. How they would both weave long, intriguing tales from not much of a story or one that was so good to begin with that it took little embellishment.

The good-to-begin-with story needed only a dusting of well-placed words while the not-so-good-ones-but-still-worth-telling were spruced up and shined to a fare-thee-well. My parents only introduced me to the art of storytelling, so once I graduated, I moved on to a master’s program: Sports reporting. Read More»

The chipped bowl

Ronda Rich's picture

Just as Tink started up the stairs, stepping slowly and carefully as he balanced a bowl and a cup of coffee to keep them from sloshing, I appeared around the corner. I paused, watched, and debated silently as to whether to speak.

“It’s not important,” the internal dialogue began.

“But it is,” another voice insisted. “You know what that bowl means. It’s a treasure. He has no idea and he would want to know.”

One of the loveliest things about my husband is that he deeply cares about the people who have gone before in my life and how those people shaped who I am and how I think. Read More»

Where did she go?

Ronda Rich's picture

When Peggy Sue went away, just fell off the face of the earth with no warning or even a holler, we all wondered where she had gone.

She’d been a big deal for so long that her abrupt disappearance from sight was mystifying, to say the least, and worth a few gossip sessions to say the most. After a while, I just got tired of wondering and tired of asking her whereabouts so I just sat myself down to figure it out.

Not to sound boastful but I’m pretty sure I’ve got the mystery solved. You’ll understand when I tell you her back story. Read More»

Whatever became of decency?

Ronda Rich's picture

Recently I was in a bookstore with a friend. We stopped at a table near the front of the store and it was loaded with different books that had such obscene titles that many of the words were expressed as @?*#.

She picked up one, a New York Times bestseller and said, “This book is ridiculous. I just flipped through and read a few pages. The guy is a real jerk.”

I picked up other books. “Look at these. Can you believe there is an entire table of books with obscene words in the titles?” Read More»

Harmony in those old notes

Ronda Rich's picture

One day over lunch, my new-to-the-South-but-thoroughly-loving-it husband commented on the choir singing at our church which is led by my brother-in-law, Rodney.

“Among the several things I love about the music at church is that people sing different parts,” he said. “At most churches today, everyone sings together.”

True. Many churches have turned away from hymn singing and toward what is known as praise worship. In doing so, an important feature of Southern history is falling to the wayside. As an advocate of our history and legacy, I chose a church that honors that tradition. Read More»

Goodbye to Pinky

Ronda Rich's picture

It seems too many loved ones recently have said goodbye to this vale of grief and sorrow and said hello to sweet eternity. Heaven is blessed but I am distressed.

Whenever I needed a good story of kindness and compassion, I could always find one quickly in Pinky Cabe. Since she blushed mightily at the hint of any praise -— hence the name Pinky forever cloaked her Christian name of Martha — I mentioned her only once in this column but in my last three books, I tossed the veil aside and told the world of her gentle spirit. Read More»

Miss Eudora’s house

Ronda Rich's picture

In the past several years, I have had as much luck visiting the historically preserved home of Southern iconic writer, Eudora Welty, as I would have had when she was alive. The front door is always shut to me. Read More»

Missing Mr. Bobo

Ronda Rich's picture

To be just downright honest, I never expected to miss him this much. And, if the deeper truth be told, perhaps it isn’t just the loss of a singular man, though great and admirable he was.

Maybe it’s the combined losses of those three who sat together on the church pew in the third row. Perhaps that’s what makes the grief so profound and long lasting. Read More»

The most honest bio

Ronda Rich's picture

A major New York publisher sent a review copy of a much touted novel called “If Jack’s In Love.” Because I write about the South and because this book had won the Willie Morris Award for Southern Fiction, the book’s publicist followed up with an email.

Since this column runs in Yazoo City, Miss., hometown and burial site of Morris, I decided to give the book a look in deference to the Southern literary legend. Surprisingly, it was the author’s biography that caught my attention rather than the sprawling words between the pages. I must share it with you: Read More»

The ‘Rocky’ method

Ronda Rich's picture

It has long been my belief that the dreams tucked into our hearts are the compass we’re given to find our direction in life. Children know at an early age what they’re called to do. Sadly, too few grow up to follow that calling because life’s demands and sensibilities get in the way.

The key, I have decided, is to grow up brave enough and bold enough to follow our dreams, regardless of how crazy they may seem to others. Strong perseverance and determination will lead to the fulfillment of our passions. Read More»