Lizz Chambers
Bio
Hunny is a storyteller, activist, and HR strategist whose writing explores ageism, legacy, resilience, and the truths hidden beneath everyday routines. Her work blends humor, vulnerability, and insight,
Achievements (1)
Stories (49)
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Hunny
Chapter 3: She Packed Her Pride and a Little Bit of Fire San Francisco, 1950 Joining the Naval Reserves had felt, to E.C., like stepping into a shelter—steady pay, a uniform that fit like purpose, a brotherhood that didn’t ask too many questions. But Truman’s orders shattered that illusion like glass under a boot heel. North Korea loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, and suddenly duty called with salt on its breath and ocean in its veins. This time, it wasn’t the Army—it was the Navy. A whole different beast. A whole different war.
By Lizz Chambers16 days ago in Chapters
Hunny
Chapter 2: Fire in Her Bones Arkansas, Late 1940s Hunny didn’t walk. She staked claim — dust rising in her wake like defiance made tangible. Every step she took was a declaration, a dare to any soul within earshot. Her hips swung more than necessary, reckless as Sunday church bells, while saddle shoes slapped the dusty road. Hunny always walked with a purpose, but what that purpose was, most folks missed, and she didn’t share.
By Lizz Chambers17 days ago in Chapters
Hunny
Hunny Chambers-My Mother’s Daughter ________________________________________ Preface: Born to Blaze Arkansas, 1930. The world was gray when Hunny was born—dust storms in the distance, soup lines on the horizon, and silence in homes where dreams had been rationed out like sugar.
By Lizz Chambers20 days ago in Chapters
The Party Planner’s Heart
I was planning a 100th birthday party for Daddy. Not a casual affair. This was a legacy event—streamers, spreadsheets, and my best attempt to keep the warring factions of the family present but separated. It would’ve been easier to broker peace in the Middle East.
By Lizz Chambers4 months ago in Families
We Will Find You
The Supervisor Housekeeping was super busy today. The hotel was full and we needed all team members on deck. I was getting ready to go help make beds when she walked into my office like she’d just escaped something. Not a fire. Not a car crash. Something quieter, but just as devastating. Her eyes scanned the room like she wasn’t sure if it was safe to speak. Her hand trembled as she held out the letter, the paper soft and warped from tears. I could see the government seal before I even touched it.
By Lizz Chambers4 months ago in Families
