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ford lacey

ford lacey

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“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.”

― Sylvia Plath

A few years ago — more than five, less than ten — I created this site with some bold, but rather unfocussed ambitions.

Around about the same time, having recently retired early from work and moved from London to Snowdonia, I decided to revisit my roots in rural Alabama.

During that visit to ‘LA’ (that’s Lower Alabama for those of you not in the know), I reconnected with someone who I now consider, for all intents and purposes, to be my brother.

It’s a complex history and a complicated relationship, but without him I would have given up this effort long ago.

What exists here now is our joint endeavour. Our effort to somehow tell the story of two Alabamians. And, in truth, of two Alabamas.

I write from my little desk in Chester, England. He writes from his bunk in the Alabama Department of Corrections.

Together, we are Ford Lacey.

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