Author Archives: Karlene Bayok Edwards
About Karlene Bayok EdwardsKarlene Bayok Edwards grew up in McCall, graduating from McCall Donnelly High School. At the age of eight, realizing there would never be enough books, she began volunteering at the McCall Library, hence her thirty-four-year career as a school librarian. She met her husband in Arizona, where she earned degrees in English literature and library science and where the two ultimately settled. Now retired, she feels compelled to write from the vivid memories of her Idaho childhood and from the Idaho backcountry stories told by her parents, Joe and Marcella Bayok.
A Between-Houses Interlude By Karlene Bayok Edwards Photos Courtesy of Karlene Bayok Edwards I returned from college that summer of 1972, not to our McCall home, which had been sold, nor to our Jughandle Mountain home, which Dad was still … Continue reading →
After the War, Would They Be the Same? By Karlene Bayok Edwards Photos Courtesy of Karlene Bayok Edwards About 240 of the 1,145 civilian construction workers building a military base on Wake Island for the Morrison-Knudsen Company in December 1941 … Continue reading →
It Can’t Be Far Now By Karlene Bayok Edwards I can’t remember much about that week-long trip we took in 1983, other than the deer eating our soap. It was just dusk, we were gathered around the fire roasting marshmallows, … Continue reading →
In the Secret Patch By Karlene Bayok Edwards, photos by Jan Yensen This story is offered free of charge in its entirety for the first week of August. Huckleberries. Just the word conjures halcyon summer days of tangy, reddish-bluish-purple pleasure. … Continue reading →
It is winter and we are traveling, once again, from McCall to Boise for my piano lesson. The canyon road is recently plowed and only a few inches of snow cover the pavement. Snow is piled high on the mountain’s side of the narrow road. Continue reading →
When I was about five, I tripped and fell down eight rough cement porch steps. I started crying, and my father knelt down and put his arms around me. He said, “Don’t cry, kid. When it stops hurting, you’ll feel so good you’ll be glad you did it.” Continue reading →