Got this 4 weeks ago for a book club this Friday. Read in 3 days and hope I recall enough from 4 weeks ago to be a good participant. Goes from past to present buy never confusing as in some other books. I LOVED the young children who were neglected and worse at every turn. I wanted justice for those who took advantage of them for profit and self indulgence.

No one should miss this novel. I along with many others had NO idea about the nightmare.I loved the ‘then and now’ pattern of the book – I was kept breathless as to how it would tie in. I normally do my reading last thing in the day, tucked comfortably in bed, hoping I don’t read late enough that I sleep too late in the morning. But that went out the window with this one – plus I found myself picking my Kindle up throughout the entire day, thus putting off a LOT of things I SHOULD have been doing.I loved how Wingate writes. I am a huge highlighter of fine novels, this was no exception. There are too many to include in this review but here are some passages by some of the characters to whet the appetite:”Static makes his thick gray hair stick straight out. I want to smooth it down for him, but I don’t. It would be a breach of protocol.””I’m not prepared to cross the line from daughter to caretaker.””We’re just like other families. Every available avenue is paved with guilt, lined with pain, and pockmarked with shame.””On occasion, it is as if the latches in my mind have gone rusty and worn. The doors fall open and closed at will. A peek inside here. An empty space there. A dark place I’m afraid to peer into. I never know what I will find. There’s no predicting when a barrier will swing wide, or why. ‘Triggers’. That’s what the psychologists call them on TV shows. Triggers…as if the strike ignites gunpowder and sends a projectile spinning down a rifle barrel. It’s an appropriate metaphor. Her face triggers something. A door opens far into the past. I stumble through it unwittingly at first, wondering what might be locked inside this room.””My mind skitters featherlight across treetops and along valley floors. I travel all the way to a low-slung Mississippi riverbank.””She’s stubborn as a cypress stump and twice as thick sometimes.””The skin on her cheek stretches so tight, it’s crossed with lacy veins like a dragonfly’s wings.””They were so young when they had me, I don’t think they even thought to teach me the words Mama and Daddy. It’s always been like we were friends the same age. But every once in a while, I need them to be a daddy or a mama.””Nothing takes you from thirty years old to thirteen faster than your mother’s voice rebounding up the stairs like a tennis ball after a forehand slice.””These past few months have rubbed us raw from the inside out, left each of us silently bleeding beneath our skins.””His eyes are dark as midnight on water. They reflect everything he looks at – a heron bird fishing nearby, branches drooping from a half-broke tree, the morning sky with its foam-white clouds…me.””He reaches out and tweaks Lark’s nose, and her lashes flutter like butterfly wings.””He smells of river water and sky. Morning fog in the summer and frost and woodsmoke in the winter.””Spanish moss drips from the trees, as delicately spun as the lace on a bridal veil.””I reach for that sense of comfort, but this visit is pungent with opposing tastes. Bitter and sweet. Familiar and strange. The tastes of life.””The other side of his mouth curves upward into a smile, and a strange sensation travels all the way to my toes. It’s like lightning crackling far off over the water – something unpredictable and dangerous.””Riggs just smiles and watches us, his eyes white around the edges and winter-bear crazy. You see a bear moving in the winter, you better look out. He’s hungry and he aims to find something to fill that hunger. He won’t care much what it is.””I grab my hair and pull until it hurts. I want to pull all of it out. Every single piece. I want a pain I understand instead of the one I don’t. I want a pain that has a beginning and an end, not one that goes on forever and cuts all the way to the bone.””The day, and this place, and everything that’s happened here goes through my mind. I see it like a motion-picture show, the kind we watch for five cents when the carnivals come through the river towns and shine their projectors on the side of a building or a barn. But the show in my mind is wavy, and blurry, and running too fast.””The day is so sweet, it’s like the drops of syrup from a honeysuckle vine. I stick out my tongue and taste and taste.””Overhead, katydids and crickets give the sky a heartbeat, and a million stars shine like far-off campfires. The half-moon hangs heavy, rocking on its back. It’s twin rides the ripples in the rain barrel as I pass.””But I can see May withdrawing into herself, the story vanishing like chalk art on a rainy day.””She doesn’t understand that all our lives we’ve been up at first light. There’s no other way to live on a shantyboat. When the river comes awake, you do too. The birds speak, the boats whistle, the waves wash up one after another if you’re tied anyplace near a main channel. The lines have to be watched, and the fish are biting, and the stove needs kindling. There’s things to do.””I drift off to sleep and dream that Fern and me are down on M. Sevier’s fishing dock. We’re sitting on one of those big suitcases they store in the pantry room, near Zuma’s mops and brooms, and we’ve got it packed full of toys to share with Camellia, Lark and Gabion. We’re waiting for Briny and Queenie to pick us up.” (And there you have the book cover….)”You don’t live all your life on the river without knowing how the moon travels. The river and its critters choose their moods according to the moon.””The portrait artist added the vibrant colors. There is no hue for painting laughter, yet the captured moment radiates joy.””He pulls me in and hugs us both hard. He smells of ashes, and fish, and coal oil, and the big river. Familiar things.”””They taught me to find the music. Life is not unlike cinema. Each scene has its own music, and the music is created for the scene, woven to it in ways we do not understand. No matter how much we may love the melody of a bygone day or imagine the song of a future one, we must dance within the music of today, or we will always be out of step, stumbling around in something that doesn’t suit the moment. I let go of the river’s song and found the music of that big house.””A woman’s past need not predict her future. She can dance to new music if she chooses. Her OWN music. To hear the tune, she must only stop talking. To herself, I mean. We’re always trying to persuade ourselves of things.”The descriptions of the river, the boat, the sounds, the feelings – you feel as though you have been there even if you never have. I could literally ‘taste’ places and things thanks to the author’s exquisite writing.I cannot decide if the “Note From The Author” should be before the story, or after (where it is) – I guess it really doesn’t matter – as long as you read it carefully. The information will blow you away.

Refreshing to read a story which pulls you in, and you are not distracted by writing that needs editing for bad grammar.

This book wow! The animalistic nature of Georgia Tann and her TCHS. It is absolutely horrifying how life is and how money can purchase humans as objects.This book is heartbreaking but also eye opening. The world we live in then and now, the way the rich are seen vs the poor.. It was not as easily exposed decades ago like it is now but naturally the issues from 1920 didn’t disappear because news coverage and podcasts expose more, people just got better at avoiding direction or creating other distractions to hide the nasty.Though this tale is heartbreaking it was a very good read in my opinion. Avery is stubborn and I love that she pushes on to find the truth. Rill is one of the sweetest motherly 10 year olds just trying to hold it all together and protect those she loves. ❤️

“Before We Were Yours” by Lisa Wingate is a poignant journey through one of the darker corridors of American history, woven into a compelling narrative that captures the essence of hope and survival against all odds. This novel, set against the backdrop of the 1939 Memphis scandal involving the Tennessee Children’s Home Society, not only sheds light on a grievous chapter in history but does so through the powerfully drawn lives of its characters.Lisa Wingate’s narrative technique seamlessly alternates between the past and the present, telling the story from two perspectives: the historical plight of the Foss children and the contemporary quest for truth by Avery Stafford. This dual storyline enriches the narrative, offering a layered exploration of family, identity, and the impact of secrets carried through generations.The characters are exquisitely crafted, with Rill Foss standing out as a memorable protagonist whose resilience and protective instincts make her tale heartbreakingly compelling. The modern-day storyline featuring Avery adds a layer of investigative intrigue and connects the past to the present, making the reader ponder the long-lasting effects of familial bonds and decisions made under duress.The emotional depth of “Before We Were Yours” is its strongest suit, meticulously capturing the pain, betrayal, and eventual healing of the characters involved. Wingate’s respectful approach to the historical elements and her skillful weaving of fiction and fact ensure the novel is both educational and engrossing.However, readers should be prepared for the emotional rollercoaster this book presents. The harrowing experiences of the children are difficult to read but essential for understanding the depth of their courage and the strength of their hope.Lisa Wingate’s “Before We Were Yours” is a must-read for those who appreciate historical fiction that speaks to the heart as well as the mind. Its beautifully tragic narrative and strong emotional core make it a memorable addition to the genre, worthy of its critical acclaim and the extensive readership it has garnered.