Mike Kaylor's life story goes To Napkins and Back

I began this story nearly 40 years ago as a cub reporter in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I always had a pen handy but never seemed to remember my notepad. One thing that was always nearby was a cocktail napkin. So the tales began to collect in a box labeled "Napkins."

That carton today is hard to lift up and down to its shelf in my garage. It has moved from home to home, always hidden in a dark closet or storage room. Many of the napkins have been transcribed onto loose leaf paper. Words on the papers have been expanded into notebooks.

I once verbally willed the Napkins box to my best friend, Bill Easterling. He's probably one of the only people in the world to ever sift through it. He died in 2000, leaving me with the box and no beneficiary.

So, I've named this blog To Napkins and Back. As I sift through the faded sheets over the coming months, I will publish them here. Some are quite embarrassing; others pour with emotion. They represent a life that many others have likely experienced but been unwilling to share.

As the words are revealed, I know I will be free.