About this space

This began with a story I had heard all my life, but never fully understood.

My father was six years old when he left home in West Tennessee and traveled across the state by train to the Tennessee School for the Deaf. He remembered it in fragments—names of towns, the rhythm of the train, the feeling of being carried farther from everything he knew.

For years, those fragments were all I had.

I came to understand that not every story is written down.

This space is an attempt to follow that journey—to gather what can be found, to sit with what cannot, and to understand what it meant.

— Gathering the fragments, one memory at a time…