Published: November 13, 2025 at 03:11 AM

Tags: blog, personal, writing, island-life, history, local-history, poetry, publications, red-magazine, scanning

This month brought something a little different than my usual routines: two new issues of RED: The Island Story Book arrived, the regular Volume 39 and the Special Christmas Edition. Seeing them show up in the mail is always a highlight for me, but this time was especially meaningful because I had writing included in both.

Faith in RED

I was genuinely pleased to find my article included in the regular issue. It’s a short piece on faith, the Gospel Hall, and Island life; as in-depth as the word count allowed, anyway. It was also my first real attempt at merging the religious part of my life with the everyday parts in a public way.

I think it went well for what it was, but it also left me wishing for a bit more room. Word limits have a way of trimming off the edges of things I’d normally explore more deeply. Still, it felt good, genuinely good, to see it printed there.

A Poem in the Christmas Edition

My Christmas-themed article; a piece about sweets and featuring one of my grandmother’s old recipes; wasn’t accepted, which is fine. These things happen. But the editors did take a poem I submitted.

Most of my poetry never sees daylight; it tends to be more emotional, sometimes heavy, and usually just something I write for myself. But for this one, I leaned into my love for the Island. The quiet, the tradition, the sense of home, and it struck the right chord.

It’s a strange but pleasant feeling to get paid for something I enjoy doing. Not the reason I do it, but it does add a little spark of encouragement.

A Box of Glenwood History

On a completely different note, and something that still feels strangely personal, a former member of the Glenwood area reached out to me about a box of old notes taken in the mid-1980s. Her father had formed a small group back then with the aim of recording the history of Glenwood.

They never got farther than handwritten notes and typed sheets, though the intention was clearly there. Why the project stalled, I don’t know. But now, decades later, I’ve become the temporary caretaker of this box.

I’ve skimmed through a lot of the pages already. Some contain errors that will need correcting, but many include details I’ve never heard before; stories, names, explanations, and moments that add texture to the Glenwood of the past.

The strangest part? My grandparents (my dad’s parents) attended at least one, possibly more, of the meetings where these notes originated. They never mentioned any of this, despite my grandmother being the historian of the family long before I ever took an interest. Seeing her handwritten name in a list of attendees felt like a little ghost from the past nodding at me.

I’m scanning the entire box before returning it to the family. They want to keep the originals, and I can’t fault them for that, it’s their history too. But at least I’ll have digital copies, and I may print a few for my own reference.

All of this reminded me (again) that I need more printer ink, and that my scanner, while dependable, is slightly crooked. Every scan comes out leaning a few degrees, so each image has to be adjusted manually. It might finally be time to invest in a new one.

Moving Forward

That’s where things stand for now. Writing, scanning, sorting through old Island stories, all pieces of the same quiet project of trying to preserve the things that matter before they slip away unnoticed.

I’ll keep digging through the box, and who knows what surprises will show up next.

For now, that’s enough for one day.