Lorraine V. Murray

1 week ago | georgiabulletin.org | Lorraine V. Murray

By LORRAINE V. MURRAY | Published June 18, 2025 I cried when my parents said goodbye after unpacking my belongings in the dorm at the University of Florida, but I soon became enchanted by the wonders of college life. I was keen on becoming a writer and eager to sample the feast of courses I had selected as an English major.

1 month ago | georgiabulletin.org | Lorraine V. Murray

By LORRAINE V. MURRAY | Published May 5, 2025 Back in the lovely days before widowhood, I often came home and was greeted by a rush of exotic aromas. Sometimes it was Italian cuisine, other times it was French, other times it might be Cajun. My late husband would be in the kitchen preparing a feast for us both. Whenever we dined on the back porch, he would come downstairs carrying a big tray bearing salads and glasses of wine, and later the main course.

2 months ago | georgiabulletin.org | Lorraine V. Murray

By LORRAINE MURRAY, Commentary | Published April 7, 2025 Here I am in my least favorite place in the world, the Atlanta airport. Wending my way through the crowd, a voice through the speakers welcomes us to “the world’s busiest airport,” as if we need a reminder. I’m on my way to Oklahoma City to visit my sister, who is scheduled for heart surgery the next day. It’s hard for me to admit this, but I’m scared about the unknown that awaits me.

Mar 26, 2025 | georgiabulletin.org | Lorraine V. Murray

By LORRAINE V. MURRAY  | Published March 26, 2025 When I first read stories by Flannery O’Connor in college, I was thoroughly horrified by the violence. The classic story most college courses include is “A Good Man Is Hard to Find,” which features an entire family being massacred at the roadside by an escaped convict. Decades later, I revisited Flannery O’Connor and came away with a new perspective.

Feb 21, 2025 | georgiabulletin.org | Lorraine V. Murray

By LORRAINE V. MURRAY | Published February 21, 2025 “Class, today we have a new girl” were the most dreaded words of my childhood. I was the red-faced, chubby girl, cringing before a sea of curious eyes, as the teacher introduced me to my classmates. The first time I heard these words was after our big move from New York to Miami, when I was 7.