When I was a child, I heard the story of Uncle Remus and Bre’r Rabbit. The way I remember it, Bre’r Rabbit had been captured by Bre’r Fox. He was trying to make his escape, and begged his captor, “Throw me into the river. Toss me over yonder hill. Hurl me onto the tall oak tree. But please, please, don’t throw me into the briar patch!”
Naturally, that is exactly what Bre’r Fox did. Oh, happy day! The rabbit was at home in an area which appeared inhospitable to others. In fact, he thrived there.
The people who settled in Briarwood over the years thrived, too. This was not the “ideal” location. It was somewhat wild. The wealthy would not think of living here, on the river! Only the independent, the courageous, the self-sufficient would consider this a home.
From the introduction to Briarwood Remembered, 1998.
“Dear Kathryn,
It was a pleasure to read your book about Briarwood. What memories it brought back. I thoroughly enjoyed revisiting old friends in our neighborhood that is fast disappearing. Thank you.”
Sincerely, Doris Price