Why Orrin Street Press?

I grew up in a typical suburban neighborhood, not far from Washington, DC. My immediate family consisted of my parents, my older sister, my grandma and me. My extended family was ever present at holidays, on my grandma's birthday and on weekends, too. Sometimes, even greatly extended family from South Carolina would come to visit my grandma so I met many of my distant cousins. Much laughter and love happened in our house, our home. And some sadness, too.

Most of my extended family moved a few times...some of them just to another house in their community...others from city to city...one even from country to country when serving as missionaries. Our little family was the only one that stayed in the same house through those many years. Everyone knew the way to our house and everyone felt like it was their home, too.

My parents were generous folk and they loved family and friends unconditionally. Some of our neighbors were like family, too, and were included when we had family gatherings. My parents lived in that house for over 40 years, and after they passed away, it was sold. As one of my cousins sat in the dining room of that house for last time, she said it was the end of an era. And it was for all of us who had spent days, weeks, months or years at that house...that house on Orrin Street.