Stories for the Fall 2020 Feedback Sessions
Group A
To avoid emailing stories back and forth, please upload on this page the story you wish to discuss this month.
Post your stories a minimum of one week in advance of the feedback session. Those seven days give you and your buddies time to read and provide helpful feedback on each others’ stories.
Instructions:

- Share your story in the comments section on this page. You can either copy and paste the text of your story in the comment box or click the paperclip icon to attach a PDF of your work. Note: it must be a PDF; Word documents are not accepted on the comment app.
- Print a copy of the Story Review Form (below) for each story your buddies share here.
- Read each story a couple of times.
- Complete the Story Review Form after your readings to organize your thoughts, suggestions, and questions.
- During the live Feedback meeting, you will share with your buddy what you wrote on the form, as well as anything new upon hearing their story read aloud.
- Email a copy of your completed Story Review Form to each buddy so they can keep a record of comments and suggestions related to their story.
If there are specific questions you’d like answered, or if you want your buddies to concentrate more heavily on a certain story device, e.g., dialogue, opening, title, etc., please include those requests in the comments when you attach your story. Ask for what you need to help you make your story the best it can be.
The Feedback Guidelines are available below to provide the framework of how Life Writers approaches giving and receiving feedback on written work, both via posts on the website and during feedback sessions.
12 Comments
Deborah Hunt Repp
This is a very short story in my series of vignettes which will be making up segments of my memoires. I’ll try to post this to practice. I would appreciate comments. I do plan to expand and add to the complexity of this story. I looks like the pdf is attached.–Success! Deborah
Norma Beasley
Debbie, wonderful descriptions, delightful presentation…I enjoyed your story immensely! I’m still not sure I understand the famous phrase…”That we have.” What does it mean?
Deborah Hunt Repp
Nothing At All….it was just what she always said at a conclusion
Ada Miller
Love the story. Suggestions: they blossom TO; she wore….black pumps. Her spindly….waist over which she wore…..; she showed a flip side of her personality.; episode description is excellent, I can visualize the whole thing. After pivot right. Put in the great sentence “her stomping scared…” finish paragraph is very good. I liked it and think this reads better.
Deborah Hunt Repp
Thanks for your comments, Debbie
Deborah Hunt Repp
This beginning page regards my early career, leading up to a 25-year career in NYC business as a secretary.
Ada Miller
I have lived in Orlando, Florida my entire life with the exception of the WWII years. Born in Orlando April 28, 1940, the life of every citizen was about to change. One of my most memorable pictures is my one year old picture, running with arms outstretched. We were living at 548 Lake Street and had a fish pond in our back yard. Aunt Jo and Uncle Wiley lived next door with my grandfather Jack Robbins. December 6, 1941 changed our lives when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and the USA entered the war on two fronts, Europe and Asia. My father could not enlist due to serious kidney illness. He sold insurance at the time for Mutual of Omaha and began travels to Atlanta, Savanah, and Beaufort, S. Carolina. A first memory is riding in a stroller in Atlanta, on a side walk with a wall next to the sidewalk. Cecil is pushing the stroller. That is all I remember about Atlanta, but next we moved to Savanah, Ga. where there was a large army base for training. My father’s brother Sylvester and Aunt Sybil had secured a house in a very tight rental market and we moved in. Many memories of this home. My tricycle was stolen off the front porch, older boys made a ride using an eight foot board with skates attached underneath and back braces nailed on somehow. Three or four of us could sit on the board and someone pushed from behind. Have no idea how it was steered but I remember the fun of riding down the street. Another memory is rolling a jar of cream on the floor between Aunt Sybil and I to make butter. Last December at Sybil’s 100 th birthday party, I told that story. In a few months, we moved the short distance to Beaufort where there was a huge marine base, Parris Island. The home we lived in was on the Main Street into downtown and on a bluff overlooking the river. Many memories abound from these years. One day a pretty young woman knocked on the door and asked mother if she had a vacant bedroom to rent. This was Marie and her young husband Dale was a dentist and assigned to Paris Island. There was no place for them to rent and they wanted to be together. They moved in. Not long after, another couple rented the only other vacant bedroom. Then Izzy and ? Moved into the basement. I can remember the cute curtains she made for the little basement windows and the hams my father had bought from farmers out in the country hanging from the ceiling. Can’t remember where the bed was. These were war years with rations and scarcity. Lots of tomatoes were grown around Beaufort and there was a cannery attached to high school property. I went with mother and we canned a lot of tomatoes and brought them home. When I was four, I had pneumonia. This was a fatal
disease at the time and I was a frail child from stories told. Taken to the hospital my parents were told there was only a slim chance of survival. They offered the only hope and that was a new drug being tried, penicillin! It had been tried on the troops with good success. It was given to me and I lived. I had been in an oxygen tent and all that. Memorabilia from this time is a small China piggy bank given to me for my forth birthday. One night, our home dwellers had a large party and they asked me to bring them my bank which they passed around and filled with change. I was so happy that I entertained by singing a song or two. I was always singing, so my father nicknamed me Sing Song for a character in Dick Tracy comic strip. I was five years old in April 1945 and the war ended in Europe. We moved back to Orlando and I started first grade. Do not remember kindergarten so think I never attended.
Jackie Raymond
Conceive, Achieve, Believe—CAB Cincinnati 1941-1948
Intro: Anything the mind can Conceive, can be Achieved, if you Believe CAB an acronym for the above.
So hop in my CAB, buckle up, and we’ll travel through my life, conceiving, achieving because we’re believing. We’ll also learn how a curve in our road is merely a detour and with an open mind and a willing hand we will forge forward again. Look at this as a time of regrouping. Conceive, Achieve, Believe—CAB Cincinnati 1941-1948
It’s summer, 2020, I’m in Atlanta, where I’ve bought a condo with my daughter Darby. Since the end of March, we’ve been in full and partial shutdown due to a viral pandemic.
I’m sitting by the Condo’s pool watching a couple girls, ages l0 to 14 year old girls splashing water in the pool and suddenly I’m at the neighborhood pool in Cincinnati, Ohio. It’s August, 1943, and Cincinnati is experiencing a very miserably hot, muggy time of summer. I’m 11 years old splashing water in the public park pool with my girl friends. We loved this park and spent our summer days there, 9a.m.to 6plus, rain or shine. Its arts and craft section offered all kinds of crafts; basket weaving, painting, sewing, and many more activities for the neighborhood children. We had to pay a small amount for the supplies, but that was waivered for some children. The cemented area around the pool and Club House was used to learn different kind of floor-type games, Hopscotch, jump rope-single or double-dutch. Ping pong tables were available, along with tables for pickup stick, and other table type games. Marble games were played in the dirt to the side areas. When I was eight and nine in Miami I had the largest marble collection in the neighborhood, but I had passed that stage of my life and did more girl things. There was a baseball field for kids to ball games. Much of this was organized by the pool staff. Schedules were posted so all could decide their daily activities. Most parents worked. A lunch was packed and we were on our own. My mother worked across the street as a Supervisor in a dress making factory which, due to the World War 11, had been converted to make parachutes for the War. It was really neat! Workers were allowed to have the white silk fabric scraps left over from the parachutes. My grandma Axtmann, mother’s mother, made me the prettiest blouses from the fabrics.
A City Prison was to the side of this park. Another park was in front of the prison where a large pond was located. In the winter, this pond iced over and we ice skated on it.
Jackie Raymond
Page 1….’I Remember Mama’ is a good way to open this part of my memoirs….Mother was really Melba in her young years, Mom to Norman and I, and Granny after her grandchildren arrived. I know what beauty is because I grew up seeing her smile even in the saddest of times. I know what Wisdom is because I’ve learned from your example. I know what Love is because God made Melba my Mother.
First I want to thank our good Lord for sending my good friend Adajo who introduced me to “Writing My Life”, a four week writing course. When I pay money for something, my frugal (or Depression baby) nature locks me a commitment to make sure I get my money’s worth. This time I committed to write daily 350 words of my memoires daily. Writing is not one of my long suits, so this was going to be quite a sacrifice, but I felt in the long run worth it…..at 88 years of age, I’d better get my memories engraved in stone or all those years would be lost.
As I meandered back through my life, beautiful revelations were revealed to me about my mother, for after all, she was the reason I’m here. This little 5 foot 1inch, 100 pound sweetheart of a women’s life came into full view.. Tears rolled down my eyes, as I’m sure the Lord intended, and her tremendous strength, perseverance, resilience and intelligence were revealed. For some reason these things I had never focused on before and failed to tell her.
She was the second of seven children, six girls and one boy, born to Lillian Heck Axtmann and Carl Tettenborn Axtmann on August 27, 2011. Her father and a business Partner became very wealthy in the furniture store business throughout the Cincinnati, Ohio, area. Mother and her six brother and sisters grew up in a big house, servants, housekeepers, etc. Mother and her older sister shared a bedroom in the third floor….often this older sister would lock Mother out, but mother slept in with other sisters. I mention this because it’s important later in the story. When Mother was 15 two devastating things happened that change the course of my mother’s life. Her father was killed in an auto accident 1929 and the Great Depression of 1929 within six months of each other occurred. Her mother, who knew nothing about business or working out of the home, not that anything would have helped, lost everything and the family were forced, with seven children, out of their huge house and had to find housing in a small apartment. Her mother turned to drinking, her older sister got a job in a department store and moved out on her own, and mother at 16 years of age, was left as the bread winner of her mother and siblings. To add to the drama she had one year left to getting her high school diploma, which apparently was very important to her. Somehow, this little 5 foot bundle of whatever, manage to take over head of her family, get her high school diploma, a waitressing job and support her mother, brother, and sisters. As it turned out, she was the only one of the seven children to get her diploma. I further realized that this was l929-30, the Great Depression upon us, jobs impossible, but she got a job as a waitress and quickly learned the better your service was the more your tips were. This serviced her for many years. At nineteen, she had met my dad, Billy, and they became champion ballroom dance partners. Waltz, Oh! how effortlessly they made that look. I’ll share that part of our life at a later time.
They married and on June 22, 1932, I came into their lives. It was really rough. Mother and dad were breadwinners of mother’s family of six, on the bright side—if there really was one, mom and dad had plenty of babysitters, so mother was able to resume her waitress career and family could eat. My little mother was such a strong, fabulous, sweet gentle spirited, bundle of dynamite. WOW!!!
Part 2 July 2l, 2020
Never Say It Can’t Be Done became the Motto of our little trio, Mom, dad and Jackie as it became. Mother and Dad wanted more children, let’s face it, Dad was one of twelve and Mother one of seven, but the Lord never gives us more than we can handle, one child was it. Now let the fun, trials, and tribulations begin. As my Birth story said, Jackie Wenger blew in the Delivery Room on a gentle breeze, bounced on the birthing table, wailed, swung arms and legs, broke into a big smile and immediately ready to go. And I’m still ready to go and explore that wide wonderful world our Great God created. Mother and Dad didn’t have a lot to do as far as caring for me, remember all those sisters she supported and my sweet dear Grandmother.
Jackie Raymond
Jackie’s Birth….. On a cool, cloudy summer day, just after 5:30 p.m., June 22, l932, in Cincinnati, Ohio, gentle winds carried a little pink blanket bundle through the open window of the delivery room at Christ Hospital. Mother Melba Virginia was exhausted. Daddy Bill, was nibbling on a finger nail, which he often did when nervous. The bounce on the delivery table caused a bellowing cry to come from inside the bundle. Opening it brought broad smiles from all present….WALLA!!!! There was a kicking, arm swinging, black curly haired little baby girl. She stopped bellowing, looked around and broke into a big smile. The Mother smiled broadly and passed out. The relieved and delighted Daddy also passed out….the little 7 pound baby girl the commotion startled the little baby causing it to again cry. When Mother and Daddy awakened and delightedly peered at their baby. Baby Wenger, who became Jacqueline Lee Wenger, ceased crying, stared, smiled, started moving her arms and legs and was ready to go. At eighty-eight she’s still ready to go… much slower, but ready to go. Where? That’s another story which requires a trip back into history.
Melba Virginia Axtmann, my mother, was of German/Irish descent. Her mother, my Grandmother, Lillian Mae Heck’s mother was of Irish descent, her father was of German descent. Grandmother’s mother died when she was three. Their father George Heck was unable to care for her and her sister and two brothers, ages one to seven. They were put in an orphanage where they grew up and could leave at seventeen. When grandmother left the orphanage, she obtained a job selling ladies’ cotton handkerchiefs at the big department store in downtown Cincinnati. There she met Carl Axtmann who was working in the Men’s department. A courtship began and eventually a marriage. They lived in an apartment below Carl’s parents. Carl’s mother, Lena Tettenbaun Axtman was a German Opera singer, his father was a conductor, music teacher-voice, piano, other instruments. They had migrated from Germany, Batan—Bushal suburb
Jackie Raymond
Loves of My Life– Animals– Man’s Best Friend is His Dog
MY FATHER WAS A BUTCHER, MY MOTHER CUT THE MEAT—AND I WAS THE LITTLE WEINER-WURST THAT RAN AROUND THE STREET This became my “Swan Song” made up by my father.
A friend is someone who knows you as you are, understands where you’ve been, accepts who you’ve become, and still, loves and is always there for you. In my life that friend has always been a dog or dogs. From crawling stage of infancy dogs and I were like magnets. We’ve never been afraid of each other. Supposedly I’d crawl up to a dog, look them in the face and either received a sniff or a big sloppy kiss. Think even then they sensed my love of them. My first real interactive dog memory was when I was three or four. My only playmate was my dog, he was my best friend. We had a fenced in yard, but who would be a better comrade to teach you how to get out of that fence, but a dog. Watching him dig holes and proceeded to wiggle his little body out that hole eventually sunk in. I eventually dug the hole big enough for me to escape, also, and off we went. Adventure, WOW. My father managed the meat department of a Kroger’s Grocery Store in Covington, Kentucky. One morning my father was pleasantly amused when he heard this little child’s voice say “I would like some of this and this and this” until he looked over the counter and the little voice was coming from his child’s voice and her dog’s whimpering. NOT GOOD AT ALL….Aunts babysitting in trouble. Fence reinforced at base. Jackie got her first spanking and stern rules for stay at home, no roam alone with four legged buddy. The little limerick above, My father….butcher, my mother….meat, I’m the little Weiner-Worst who ran around the streets.
Ada Miller
Love your stories and can picture them. Sorry I cannot print them because I could make some small corrections and clarify some places. Keep writing—-I love reading them