My brother Hursey Clev, Brooksville Star newspaper, and sister, Yvonne Elaine, Ohio high school teacher—may you both rest in peace. My only surviving sibling, my brother Steve, still in West Virginia—I wish you joy and love and peace.
My husband, Terry, for listening as I struggled to give voice to the flesh and bones of kin rattling through my Appalachian blood. For unfailing patience and support. For eating cereal for dinner more often than I will admit to in writing.
My son, Carey, and grandsons C.J. and Andrew. My daughter, Andrea, and granddaughters Rindy and Camy. My great-grandchildren—Drema, Hunter and Lila, Daisy and Cindy, and all who come after. I wrote this book for you. Hold each other close. When times are tough, it’s nice to know someone has your back. Live your best life. One day your grandchild might write a book about you.
Myrna Moles is the Sissy in my stories. Best friends from age three, she encouraged me to write this book and stayed with me to the bittersweet end. We talked for countless hours, unearthing her memories and mine, agreeing on this, disagreeing on that—sometimes I let her win, sometimes she let me. Over the mountains and through the valleys, she was always there.
Peggy Blevins, Patty Greer, Myrna Moles, (and me), the fearless foursome who shared Girl Scouts, cheerleading, and secrets—and countless hours talking about all those cute East Beckley boys—Steve Bibb, Bill Grose, Grant Slack, David Stanley, and all the rest.
Ruth Hoffman (deceased), revered English teacher, Hernando High School, Brooksville, Florida, 1953–54, was the first to tell me I had the makings of a writer.
Herbert Kiser, honored journalism teacher, Woodrow Wilson High School, Beckley, West Virginia, 1956–57. He believed in me back then and still does. A role model, a mentor, a shining example.
The Writers Garret, home of our renowned Dallas writing community, allowed me to grow in the heady company of other writers. Saturday mornings in the upper room with Mark Noble’s Stone Soup group was an almost spiritual experience.
Kathleen Rodgers, great friend and author of two award-winning novels, rescued me from the Harpies when they took over, and applauded loudly when I put a couple good sentences together. Tom clapped too.
Marcia Cooper, friend, performer, and writer, arranged many of my speaking events. She carried copies of my stories everywhere she went, sharing them with too many captive audiences to count.
Nancy Stewart, then editor of the Register Herald’s Divine magazine, published several of my stories. Lisa Shrewsberry, former WV South editor, published many others, and Brenda Pinnell, former WV South art director, brought them to life with her whimsical illustrations.
Bill Marvel, Juli McCullagh, Robin Underdahl (and Judith Greene Emeritus), all published award-winning authors and members of Salon Quatre, our fierce Dallas writing group. After spending a day in their company, I am encouraged, inspired, humbled.
A special thank you to my agent, Jeanie Loiacono, Loiacono Literary Agency, for connecting me with Zondervan. Thank you to David Morris, Zondervan Trade Publisher, for your interest in my book. And thank you to the amazing team at Zondervan—Stephanie Smith, Bob Hudson, Alicia Kasen, Bridgette Brooks, Jennifer Ver Hage, Bridget Harmon, and all the others—for believing in Running on Red Dog Road and helping me make it better every step of the way.
Many others helped me hold my dream in my hand. Named or unnamed, I love you all.
