Marian Rizzo

Ah, Spring Break That annual rite of passage when thousands of winter-weary college students flock to Florida's renowned beaches for two weeks of sun, sand, surf, and suds... and perhaps a bit of shenanigans.There's Panama City Beach, the Spring Break Capital of the World. Further south there is Miami, with its glitz and glamor and shopping. Or South Beach, where the party never ends.But for three poor college students who actually live in Florida, the idea of ditching the state altogether and heading west for an epic road trip is too enthralling to pass up.Charlie, Jamal, and Sean have it all figured out. If they take one car, scrimp on meals, and take advantage of relatives along the road for lodging, they can make it to San Francisco, California, and back home to Gainesville, Florida, in two weeks on $300 each.3 Friends.$300 Each.3,000 Miles.1 Car.What could possibly go wrong?

Ah, Spring Break That annual rite of passage when thousands of winter-weary college students flock to Florida's renowned beaches for two weeks of sun, sand, surf, and suds... and perhaps a bit of shenanigans.There's Panama City Beach, the Spring Break Capital of the World. Further south there is Miami, with its glitz and glamor and shopping. Or South Beach, where the party never ends.But for three poor college students who actually live in Florida, the idea of ditching the state altogether and heading west for an epic road trip is too enthralling to pass up.Charlie, Jamal, and Sean have it all figured out. If they take one car, scrimp on meals, and take advantage of relatives along the road for lodging, they can make it to San Francisco, California, and back home to Gainesville, Florida, in two weeks on $300 each.3 Friends.$300 Each.3,000 Miles.1 Car.What could possibly go wrong?

Francine Maria Capellini was named after her grandmother, and carried with her many of the same personality traits and physical features. As a child, young Frannie would sit enthralled as the elder Francine, Gram to Frannie, regaled her with wild tales of adventure in places far, far away from the humdrum little village of Cittadina, New York.But while Francine seemed content to dwell in the same little house, in the same little town where her family had lived for generations, Frannie couldn't wait to shake the dust off her feet and leave Cittadina in her rear view mirror as soon as she graduated high school. Within a few years she was on the fast track in the high pressure world of news reporting in the Big Apple. She had a great job, a handsome boyfriend, and a life that was a world away from her small town originsThen the call came.Gram had died and left Frannie the house on Maple Street.Frannie would have to return to her home town, fix up the old house, and sell it before she could move on with her life.But Cittadina exerted an unexpected pull on Frannie, and Gram's final bequest provided answers to questions long buried which uncovered Frannie's heart.

Francine Maria Capellini was named after her grandmother, and carried with her many of the same personality traits and physical features. As a child, young Frannie would sit enthralled as the elder Francine, Gram to Frannie, regaled her with wild tales of adventure in places far, far away from the humdrum little village of Cittadina, New York.But while Francine seemed content to dwell in the same little house, in the same little town where her family had lived for generations, Frannie couldn't wait to shake the dust off her feet and leave Cittadina in her rear view mirror as soon as she graduated high school. Within a few years she was on the fast track in the high pressure world of news reporting in the Big Apple. She had a great job, a handsome boyfriend, and a life that was a world away from her small town originsThen the call came.Gram had died and left Frannie the house on Maple Street.Frannie would have to return to her home town, fix up the old house, and sell it before she could move on with her life.But Cittadina exerted an unexpected pull on Frannie, and Gram's final bequest provided answers to questions long buried which uncovered Frannie's heart.

Israel is unfamiliar territory to many people. Few have tread upon the rocky wilderness of Judea or dipped their toes in the Jordan. Few have witnessed the sun rising behind the mountains of Moab or plucked an olive from a gnarled tree in the garden. Few have camped out under the star-filled sky that spread its arms of welcome to angels on that holy night more than 2,000 years ago.Author Marian Rizzo invites you to travel beyond the pages of this book into the very presence of Jesus. Rub elbows with Simon Peter, place your head beside John's on the Savior's breast. Join the crowd as they lay their cloaks and palm branches before Him. Dine with Him in the home of Martha and Mary. Weep with Him at the tomb of Lazarus. Then rise up in anger at the Lord's trial and crucifixion. Mourn with His followers, celebrate His resurrection, stand on the Mount of Olives as He ascends into heaven, and witness Him in His glory.Let the lessons He taught 2,000 years ago help you deal with today's issues. Learn from Him. Apply His teachings. And make His story your story.

Adele Cunningham had died. And she had lived. Two hours of personal testimonies proved as much. Multiple individuals stepped up to the pulpit to share what Mrs. Cunningham had done for them, either through prayers or through advice. The truth was, Adele Cunningham left a legacy that would never die.Overwrought by the loss of her mother, Judy Cunningham needed a place where she could grieve alone. She sought a path through the swarming crowd. Arms fell like gates at a railroad crossing and blocked her way. She endured the body hugs, the wet kisses on her cheek, and the suffocating mix of perfume and body odors. Mumbling her apologies, she broke free and passed from the living room into the kitchen and headed for her mother's bedroom. She slipped inside and eased the door shut.Then, breathing a sigh, she drank deeply of the quiet. A sense of nostalgia took over as she swept her eyes across the four-poster bed, the hand-crocheted granny quilt, and the lacy pillow shams, everything neatly arranged as if Mother had just left the room. On the little bedside table sat a Tiffany lamp, a worn leather Bible, and a box of tissues, remnants of Adele Cunningham's daily meetings with God.She approached her mother's rocker and ran her hand over the curved back."Mom's prayer chair," she whispered.This was where Adele Cunningham met God every morning and every night. Judy settled into the chair, shut her eyes, and imagined her mother's arms enfolding her.She set the rocker in motion and thought about the many notes her mother had left behind for her to deliver. She'd handwritten more than two dozen during her last week in the hospital. One of those little blue envelopes had Judy's name on it. She stared at it for a moment, then slid her fingernail under the flap and opened it.

Adele Cunningham had died. And she had lived. Two hours of personal testimonies proved as much. Multiple individuals stepped up to the pulpit to share what Mrs. Cunningham had done for them, either through prayers or through advice. The truth was, Adele Cunningham left a legacy that would never die.Overwrought by the loss of her mother, Judy Cunningham needed a place where she could grieve alone. She sought a path through the swarming crowd. Arms fell like gates at a railroad crossing and blocked her way. She endured the body hugs, the wet kisses on her cheek, and the suffocating mix of perfume and body odors. Mumbling her apologies, she broke free and passed from the living room into the kitchen and headed for her mother's bedroom. She slipped inside and eased the door shut.Then, breathing a sigh, she drank deeply of the quiet. A sense of nostalgia took over as she swept her eyes across the four-poster bed, the hand-crocheted granny quilt, and the lacy pillow shams, everything neatly arranged as if Mother had just left the room. On the little bedside table sat a Tiffany lamp, a worn leather Bible, and a box of tissues, remnants of Adele Cunningham's daily meetings with God.She approached her mother's rocker and ran her hand over the curved back."Mom's prayer chair," she whispered.This was where Adele Cunningham met God every morning and every night. Judy settled into the chair, shut her eyes, and imagined her mother's arms enfolding her.She set the rocker in motion and thought about the many notes her mother had left behind for her to deliver. She'd handwritten more than two dozen during her last week in the hospital. One of those little blue envelopes had Judy's name on it. She stared at it for a moment, then slid her fingernail under the flap and opened it.

Eleazar followed his father along the narrow trail from one level to the next. They moved beyond the grassy hillside onto the rocky path, descended to the valley below, then rose to the three peaks of the Mount of Olives.At the crest, a vast wilderness stretched before them, and in the distance the pink-hued mountains of Moab stood against the pale blue sky. With the rising of the sun beyond those hills life came to the desert. Red and yellow wildflowers turned toward the heavens. Lush myrtle boasted clusters of white blossoms. The sweet scent of purple rockrose and the delicate aroma of white narcissus filled the air.Eleazar tried to suppress the surge of excitement. He took a deep breath, inhaled the mix of nature, and looked ahead with anticipation. He knew this place, had eyed it from a distance. The miserable ones lived there. His mother's warning came back to him. He would sacrifice his own family to help the forbidden ones.The forbidden ones. A chill ran through him. He looked with trepidation at the row of caves. It was too late to turn back.

March 4,1918An army cook at Fort Riley, Kansas, reported to the infirmary with a temperature of 103.1 F.Within two days another 521 men became sick. It is one of the first recorded outbreaks of what came to be known as the Spanish flu. Approximately one-third of the world's population became infected with this virus. The number of deaths is estimated to be at least 50 million worldwide with about 675,000 occurring in the United States.Living in the country, we fared better than those who lived in crowded conditions in the big cities. We were like one big, happy family, living in different houses. We held barn raisings, outdoor festivals, and church picnics. You might say we lived in our own little Shangri-La. But at last the plague of 1918 found us too, and that silent killer was about to drag us into hell."Isolation is the key," my husband, Dr. John Gallagher, kept saying. "We have to separate the healthy from the sick."As the town's only physician, John oversaw the health of approximately 1,400 people. Though our quiet little burg wasn't hit as hard as some of the big cities-specifically Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Boston-we suffered several losses before residents of Sawmill, Pennsylvania, began to acknowledge that John was right, and isolation helped to curb the progression of the disease.But isolation also brought with it another set of hardships.

March 4,1918An army cook at Fort Riley, Kansas, reported to the infirmary with a temperature of 103.1 F.Within two days another 521 men became sick. It is one of the first recorded outbreaks of what came to be known as the Spanish flu. Approximately one-third of the world's population became infected with this virus. The number of deaths is estimated to be at least 50 million worldwide with about 675,000 occurring in the United States.Living in the country, we fared better than those who lived in crowded conditions in the big cities. We were like one big, happy family, living in different houses. We held barn raisings, outdoor festivals, and church picnics. You might say we lived in our own little Shangri-La. But at last the plague of 1918 found us too, and that silent killer was about to drag us into hell."Isolation is the key," my husband, Dr. John Gallagher, kept saying. "We have to separate the healthy from the sick."As the town's only physician, John oversaw the health of approximately 1,400 people. Though our quiet little burg wasn't hit as hard as some of the big cities-specifically Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Boston-we suffered several losses before residents of Sawmill, Pennsylvania, began to acknowledge that John was right, and isolation helped to curb the progression of the disease.But isolation also brought with it another set of hardships.

Mitch Calloway had served as a youth minister at mega-church, White Hills Bible Church for ten years, and while he loved his job, he longed to pastor his own congregation. So when the opportunity came to interview for the position of pastor of the historic Mercy Fellowship in Shadow Glenn, Massachusetts, he knew it was God's call.Then in met with the church's board of deacons.Elijah Garby pelted Mitch with one question after another."When did you turn your life over to Jesus?"Mitch didn't hesitate. "When I was fifteen.""When did you commit to serving in ministry?""The same night.""Fine," Garby growled. "But what sort of formal education have you had?"Mitch wasn't about to let the old guy intimidate him. "I graduated from Anderson University. I majored in hermeneutics and minored in eschatology.""And since then?""I've been a youth minister at White Hills Bible Church for the past ten years.""You have kids?" Garby growled.Mitch nodded. "Two. Matthew is eight, and Luke recently turned five.""How do you feel about demonic activity? Do you think it's real, or fantasy?"Mitch thought it a strange queston. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?""I mean do you believe in another realm, even though you can't see it?""I don't know what you're driving at, Mister Garby.""I'm asking you is, are you prepared to do battle with the devil himself, if necessary?"

Silver Springs, located in central Florida, is perhaps the best known natural artesian spring in the world. A grand natural wonder of the world on par with Niagara Falls or the mighty Mississippi River. Easily the largest spring in the world Silver Springs boasts long-term average measured flows of more than 500 million gallons per day-enough to meet the water consumption needs of 5 million Floridians. Silver Springs is the most visited spring system in the U.S. drawing more than one million tourists each year, and that's before the days of Disney. Silver Springs has been called the "Fountain of Knowledge" about how all aquatic ecosystems function, based on a landmark, holistic, ecosystem study conducted more than 70 years ago.Yet Silver Springs is fading due to the careless apathy of the public and the clever manipulations of truth by unscrupulous proponents of poorly regulated growth and development. Despite that, this is an exciting time in the long history of Silver Springs. The Liquid Heart of Florida has the chance to turn the corner from more than 50 years of regulatory neglect and decline, to a future of recovery and protection. Silver Springs can serve as an allegory for all of Florida's natural wonders. Either it can go the way of the Ivory Billed Woodpecker and Carolina Parakeet, or it can be returned from near extinction like the Brown Pelican and the Bald Eagle. The future of Silver Springs is a choice that will be made by the actions or inactions of our generation.

Silver Springs, located in central Florida, is perhaps the best known natural artesian spring in the world. A grand natural wonder of the world on par with Niagara Falls or the mighty Mississippi River. Easily the largest spring in the world, Silver Springs boasts long-term average measured flows of more than 500 million gallons per day-enough to meet the water consumption needs of 5 million Floridians. Silver Springs is the most visited spring system in the U.S. drawing more than one million tourists each year, and that's before the days of Disney. Silver Springs has been called the "Fountain of Knowledge" about how all aquatic ecosystems function, based on a landmark, holistic, ecosystem study conducted more than 70 years ago.Yet Silver Springs is fading due to the careless apathy of the public and the clever manipulations of truth by unscrupulous proponents of poorly regulated growth and development. Despite that, this is an exciting time in the long history of Silver Springs. The Liquid Heart of Florida has the chance to turn the corner from more than 50 years of regulatory neglect and decline, to a future of recovery and protection. Silver Springs can serve as an allegory for all of Florida's natural wonders. Either it can go the way of the Ivory Billed Woodpecker and Carolina Parakeet, or it can be returned from near extinction like the Brown Pelican and the Bald Eagle. The future of Silver Springs is a choice that will be made by the actions or inactions of our generation.