Girl Singer
An Autobiography
Excerpt
From the porch, the river looked smoky brown sometimes, rosy and lavender when
the sun was going down, then slate gray, just before it turned pitch black.
From the porch, the lights of the Island Queen beckoned, like reachable stars.
From the porch, the river promised better times coming, faraway places just
around the bend.
From the porch, the river was a wide tranquil ribbon, no hint of a dangerous
current. All you could see from the porch were possibilities, not perils.
The porch was at my grandmother's house in Maysville, Kentucky, on the Ohio
River. Although Maysville was called a port city, it was a classical small town,
its life centered in a few downtown blocks between the train station and the
bridge: McGee's Bakery, Merz Brothers Department Store, the diner with the
swinging eat sign and six stools at the counter, where we sat and watched our
hamburgers—the size of half dollars—frying on the grill.
Now that house on West Third Street, high above the river, is spruced up,
glistening white, with window ... read full excerpt from Girl Singer ebook
