
![]() I fell in love with the dogwood flower around the time I turned sixteen. I was in Opp, Alabama, visiting my grandmother; my family and I were just finishing up our traditional walk down the dirt road that runs parallel to her house. The spring air, sopping in the sweet scents of wild honeysuckle and wisteria, consumed us. This is home, I remember thinking to myself. We are home. My father and I walked hand-in-hand. He peeled himself away for a moment and slowly walked toward a tree near my grandmother’s property. While admirably examining the tree, he motioned for my family and me to come closer. We did. Frustrated, as my hand felt shockingly vacant from my father’s release, I remember thinking: It just looks like a crooked old tree with some boring old blooms. The closer we got, however, the more those same blooms came to life.
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Alabama Heritage BLOG
At Alabama Heritage, we owe many of our successes and smooth operations to our fabulous student interns. We hope that with this blog--written mostly by our interns as well as history students from UAB and a few from our own editors--our readers will have an opportunity to get to know the students who bring so much to the table with their enthusiasm, hard work, and expertise! If you're interested in our internship program, check out the details here. Archives
November 2023
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