tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58327104893317901432024-02-20T22:06:12.561-05:00PATTY F. COOPER WRITESFICTION & NONFICTION MUSINGSpatty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-24660352317875737212019-06-24T11:01:00.003-04:002019-06-24T11:17:19.897-04:00 UPROOTED: A Novel by Patty F. Cooper<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">A novel about an
Appalachian family moving to and living in South Florida from 1955-1965<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">1 The Departure<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The child was nine and
had always lived in the same place so far as she knew. She went to the
same church every Sunday unless they went somewhere else for homecoming.
She was finishing up second grade because she had to sit out an extra
year due to her birthday being three days after the cut-off. She was
surrounded by tons of relatives and went to see one set of grandparents one
Sunday afternoon then the other set the following week. There was always
a big dinner, and all the extended family came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca knew that she
had a beautiful life. She always had the freedom to roam and play in her
bare feet, causing soft red powdered dust to rise as she ran down the dirt road
toward her cousin's house. She could always look up at the mountains in the
distance of her North Carolina home. She didn't know it, but she felt sheltered
by those mountains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Then one day, it all
stopped. It stopped because of a letter her mother received from an aunt
who lived in a faraway place called Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Her aunt
had enclosed an orange blossom in the message. Pressed tight and dried, but it
still carried its sweet scent. Who knew that a pressed orange blossom could
up-end a life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After that letter
arrived, Rebecca's mother could do nothing but talk about moving to Florida.
Rebecca's father nearly always did what her mother wanted. When they told
Rebecca of their plan to move to Florida, she pleaded with them to no avail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They began by putting
the house up for sale and holding a sale of nearly all of their possessions.
Rebecca sat in the newly covered grey wing-backed chair and watched as
the human vultures picked over the flesh of all the beautiful things they owned
then over the carcass of what remained until the place was nearly bare.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">During that horrible
day, Rebecca wondered how her mother could so easily part with all those things
that she had just had to have. Rebecca felt hopeless and helpless, and
she was. After the house sold, they moved in with her father's parents. All
were sharing one room. They weren't leaving until school was out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They quit going to their
church. They stopped other things, but those things were just a blur to
the child. Her home was gone. Her swing set that her father had built
especially for her was gone as was her unique playhouse. Everything was
gone except for some clothes and their new table-model television.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">One June morning in
1954, their large black 1949 Ford packed to the gills, the family headed south.
Rebecca shared the backseat with her brother and with the television
sitting like a third child between them. Tears were running down her face
as they pulled out of her grandparents' yard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Her father picked up
speed as he hit the main road. The telephone poles went rushing by as
Rebecca looked out the window. She wondered just how many telephone poles
were between North Carolina and Florida.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">2 The Trip & Arrival<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca stayed angry as
long as she could, but as soon as they left Rutherfordton, North Carolina, the
scenery started changing, so she just had to look. There were no more
mountains, and soon they entered South Carolina a whole other state. Not that
Rebecca found much to recommend South Carolina. There were still woods, but
they started giving away to pine woods. Miles and miles of just pine
woods with what her daddy said were palmettos growing underneath the trees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At about noon, they
stopped at some roadside tables to have the picnic lunch that Rebecca's
grandmother had packed. Her grandmother was an excellent cook, and they
had fried chicken, potato salad, and fried apple pies. Grandma had also sent a
mayonnaise jar of lemonade for Rebecca and Robert. Her mama and daddy
drank black coffee from a thermos bottle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The roadside picnic area
was, and no one else was there, so they were able to walk a distance into the
woods to go to the bathroom. Mica carried a washrag in a jug of water for
hand washing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After they passed what
seemed like every pine tree in the world, they came to Georgia and at least
there they got to go through many little towns. They stopped for ice
cream in one of them. Long about suppertime they came to Jacksonville, Florida
and found a motel for the night right after passing the giant peanut man who
was the same one who advertised on T.V. Now, that was impressive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The next day, they went
through miles of flat nothingness in Florida. Rebecca's father told them that
they were traveling on U.S. Highway Number One and that it went along the
entire length of the United States from Maine to Key West, Florida. Mica
was impressed by that, so Robert was too. Rebecca only knew that it must be a
really long road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Late that June afternoon,
Rebecca's daddy pulled the car over when they were close to Fort Lauderdale.
They all went to the passenger side of the vehicle and opened both doors
to provide some privacy. Rebecca's mother got out the washrag jar and washed
both Rebecca and Robert and got fresh clothes out of the suitcase in the trunk
and made both of them change their clothes. She threatened them to be
still and not wrinkle up for they were going to be at Aunt Lou and Uncle John's
house soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After piling back into
the car, it wasn't long until there started being stores on both sides of the
road. On every block, there was a sign that said "bar." Rebecca
couldn't believe her ears when her daddy told her that was where people went to
drink spirits. These places weren't hidden at all! They had flashing neon
lights inviting people to come right on in! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Back home, all the
roadhouses and honky-tonks were hidden out as much as they could be because
everybody knew they were sinful places. The men always snuck out to some
uncle's car to take a snort during family gatherings. Drinking any form of
alcohol was something to be hidden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In a few short miles,
Mica turned the car to the right off of what was now called "Federal
Highway," then he made another right in front of a pink building.
The building was named a duplex meaning that there were two houses hooked
together. Rebecca's Aunt Lou and Uncle John lived in the rear portion of the
building, and that was where they were also going to live until they could get
their own place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They knocked on the
door, and Aunt Lou flung it open and just started hugging and kissing on all of
them. Aunt Lou seemed so happy to see them, and they were pleased to see
her too. She showed them their bedroom. The parents had a double bed, and
Robert and Rebecca had what was called a three-quarter bed. The newly arrived family
had their own bathroom, and Aunt Lou and Uncle John had a bedroom and a
bathroom. There was also a living room, and what was called a combination
kitchen dining room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Aunt Lou had a big meal
prepared; although, up until that time, Rebecca had never had what was served.
It was a salad with oil and vinegar dressing, Italian spaghetti and
meatballs and Italian bread. They all had water to drink. Rebecca
realized that people sure ate crazy in Fort Lauderdale, or maybe it was because
of Uncle John. He was from New York City. All the family said it was a
vast place. He and Aunt Lou hadn't been married that long, so maybe she was
still trying to impress him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Anyway, except for
eating a salad and being supposed to think it was good and drinking water for a
meal, the spaghetti and meatballs and bread was good. It was just all so
different, and that stupid Robert embarrassed all of them when he asked what
all that silverware was for, anyway. He also wanted to know what that
handkerchief was doing on the table beside of everybody's plates. Aunt
Lou said that was a napkin and people were supposed to wipe their mouths on
them. Then she took the napkin and laid it on her lap. Rebecca did the same.
She tried not to get hers dirty, but that spaghetti was just so messy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">3 Fort Lauderdale Beach,
1955<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca and Robert slept
well, sharing the three-quarter bed; although, Robert kicked like a mule during
the night. As soon as the children woke up, they were of one mind with
one thought, and it was going to the BEACH! After all, why else would anyone
even want to be here so far away from home?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Fortunately, daddy
agreed and all loaded up to go. The small group traveled down the 17th
Street Causeway heading east. Daddy explained that the large area where
lots of ships were parked was called Port Everglades and he said that ships and
boats "docked" not parked. There were so many of them docked at
the port.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They crossed the
Intracoastal Waterway. Uncle John told them that it was like a highway
for ships and boats. He said that it had been dug so that they could go
north and south safer during war times or when the ocean was too rough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The group passed long
low sprawling mansions unlike the large two and three story mansions found in
North Carolina. Soon they rounded a curve and saw the Jungle Queen a huge
paddlewheel boat on the left as well as a fleet of commercial fishing boats.
Behind them was the Bahia Mar Marina where lots of beautiful boats--daddy
corrected-- "yachts" were docked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Uncle John pulled into a
parking space and there before them stretched, as far as the eye could see, the
Atlantic Ocean. To get to the water, the group ran across a wide beach
covered with sand. The children ran into the water, and they were surprised how
warm it was. Even though Uncle John called the ocean "calm,"
there were small waves that were tremendously fun to jump and play in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Aunt Lou and Uncle John
sat on a bench partially shaded by palm trees. They both confessed to the
children that they didn't like sand. Robert remarked to Rebecca that it was
hard to understand how anyone could not like sand. Aunt Lou had bought
both of the children buckets and spades, and they built what were called
"sand castles" before running back into the water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Mama went into the water
to about her waist. She didn't want to get her hair wet. Daddy ran and
jumped and played in the water with the children just like the children.
Rebecca was so glad to see him being so happy and so relaxed. He was a
veteran, and he had a bad nervous condition, but you couldn't tell it on this
hot sunny morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Much too soon for
Rebecca and Robert, they were told that it was time to go home. Rebecca
had decided she loved the Atlantic Ocean, and she loved Fort Lauderdale Beach.
Where else could one look just south of where they were and see a hotel
shaped like a ship? Where else could one stand in the water looking north
seeing beach seeming to go on forever? Aunt Lou said that Fort Lauderdale had
seven miles of public beach! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">But more importantly,
where could one stand on a shore of a beach looking east and see nothing but
ocean? Daddy said that it was like that all the way to Africa. Imagine
that. The very waters that were lapping at Rebecca's feet may have one day been
lapping at the feet of a little girl in Africa looking westward towards
America. The very same water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">4 Swimming Lessons in
the Venice of America<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Every morning Aunt Lou
dressed for her job at Broward General Hospital. She put on her starched
white uniform, her white stockings, and white shoes and pinned on her white
starched nurse's cap and walked to work. Uncle John left for work at his
store and sometimes daddy, and the children would go with him, but most days
the children were left home alone while daddy took mama to look for work. She
soon found a job working as a cashier at a grocery store.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Then daddy started
taking her to work every morning, and he decided that Rebecca and Robert needed
swimming lessons. He decided this after the family began taking drives
looking around Fort Lauderdale nearly every evening house hunting. He saw
that there was water everywhere, and that made him fear for the children's
safety.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Uncle John said that
Fort Lauderdale was the "Venice of America" named after a place
called Venice in Europe. There, he said, the streets were water. Here,
the roads weren't, but there was water nearly everywhere else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He said that nearly the
whole place had been water and swamps, so some people got the idea to build sea
walls and start dredging the mangrove swamps. They put the dirt from the
swamp beds behind the seawalls. That meant that there was a dry place to build
houses on. Then, the houses were right on the canals that were left between the
sea walls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">So, daddy insisted that
Rebecca and Robert learn to swim. Daddy took them to a place that looked just
like a castle called the Las Olas Casino Pool. Looks can be very
deceiving. The place was monstrous. First, the children had to go into the
locker rooms and leave their street stuff there. The place was as cold as ice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Then, they had to shower
in cold water before getting into the pool. Rebecca couldn't understand
why someone had to wash-up before going swimming. As if that wasn't bad
enough, Rebecca had to wear a bathing cap. Robert didn't have to wear one.
They said that it was to keep hair from clogging up the pool's filters.
Rebecca felt that Robert's hair was just as likely to clog up the filters as
hers was, but her argument did not work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After showering the
children were made to climb down a ladder into the pool's icy water. It
was miserable, but both children learned to swim many different strokes, and
they each learned to dive off the small diving board into the 12' deep water
and to jump off the high diving board into the deep end. They had to master
different things to advance to more senior classes, which they both did over
time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The best thing about
swimming lessons was when they were over daddy would take them across the
street to the ocean and let them play in the sea to have fun and to warm up.
Daddy quit worrying so much because Rebecca and Robert advanced through
many classes and could both swim like a fish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca and Robert never
liked swimming lessons even when while trying to persuade them how great the
pool was as they were told that Johnny Weissmuller, better known as Tarzan from
the movies, swam there. The children saw pictures of him at the pool in
the newspaper and on postcards, but Rebecca and Robert remained unimpressed.
Especially since, no matter how many times they were at that pool freezing and
taking lessons always keeping an eye out for him, they never once saw him
there. Not one single time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">5 Our New House<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After having endured a
horrible summer after arriving in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, Rebecca, and
Robert's mama and daddy started looking for a new house. They lived with
Aunt Lou and Uncle John, but as kind, as they were, it was time to establish
their own home once again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The children were
excited about getting a new house. They also loved shopping for furniture
and just could not wait until they had their own home and rooms once more.
That was until mama and daddy showed them the house they bought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After going through it,
Rebecca innocently asked, "Where is the rest of it?" The house was so
small and all the rooms so small that she actually thought that the house was
her new playhouse and she excitedly ran out the door looking for the main
house. Instead, she saw another little house feet from both the front
door and the back door with a smelly garbage dump at the back of the small lot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"This is the
house," mama said when Rebecca came back in with a questioning look on her
young face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"But where is
Robert supposed to sleep?" Rebecca innocently asked. "There are only
two small bedrooms."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Well," daddy
said, "You will share this room," he said, pointing to the larger of
the two small bedrooms. "You will each have a brand new twin foam rubber
bed."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Oh," Rebecca
responded as she sadly lowered her head. She realized that this was the
best that mama and daddy could do, but she once again wondered why they had
sold their big house on the big lot in North Carolina to come here to live like
this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">She innocently asked,
"But, where are the orange trees. I thought that there were supposed
to be orange trees everywhere. There are no trees whatsoever or even
grass in the yard."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Daddy replied, "See
those little sprigs of grass? They will grow together to form a solid mat
of grass." Rebecca and Robert shot looks to each other saying that they
neither one believed him, but as time went on those shoots of wiry grass did
intertwine to for a green lawn, but the grass was sharp and not soft like North
Carolina grass, and it became just one more thing about South Florida that the
children did not like.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At least the children
had greater freedom once moving to the new housing development. There
were at least a few other children there, and they could play on the mounds of
powdery white sand where the pine trees and palmettos had been bull-dozed
before the land was once again leveled to build more of the tiny houses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They even went with
daddy foraging into the dump that started at their backyard, and they were
amazed at the good stuff they found that rich people had thrown away. At
least that was something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">6 Summer Tragedy 1955<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We settled in the new
house, and after the new furniture was in place, we had just enough room to
walk around. Daddy set up the T.V. in the living room and put up an
outside antenna that he could go out and turn depending on which station we
were going to watch. We were so excited because there were three stations
that we could get out of Miami. Three stations!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">One day in August, we
got terrible news. One of Daddy's older brothers used to live next door
to us in North Carolina. We were really close. His wife had died of brain
cancer when Rebecca was petite. Now, there was just him and his son, Lin.
Lin loved airplanes and made models and hung them by fishing line from the
ceiling of an outbuilding that his daddy had given him to use as his own
workshop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Lin was really quiet,
but he would always let the children in to see his planes, and he joined the
service about a year before the family moved to Florida. He was stationed
in Germany.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca and Robert were
not called to supper. That had never happened. They always pushed coming
in from play to the last minute, but when they weren't called, they got curious
and went home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They found daddy sitting
on the couch. Just sitting there. He hadn't cooked supper, and mama was
still at work. He looked up, but he didn't say anything. Both of the
children realized that he looked funny. "What's wrong, Daddy?" both
of the children asked in unison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Lin is dead,"
he replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Dead?" both
children said at once.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"How, Daddy?"
Rebecca asked as she slumped at his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Robert sat down beside
daddy and buried his head against daddy's arm, already crying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Mica told the children
what he knew. "He was flying on a plane they call a boxcar and his plane
and another one collided in mid-air."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca jumped up,
saying, "But, Daddy, that is not possible. Look up at the sky. There
is just so much room up there that it would be impossible for two planes to hit
each other. That can't be right."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Rebecca, it would
seem that you should be right, but they did hit head-on and all aboard both
planes were killed."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Well, when are we
leaving for North Carolina for the funeral?" Robert asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"We aren't
going," Daddy replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Not going to the
funeral …." Rebecca couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But,
Daddy, everybody always comes to the funerals from no matter where they are.
Always. You know we all have to bring food in and sit with each other and
pet, Uncle Ice. We have to go. We always talk and are all so sad together then
we begin telling stories about the person and start laughing at those stories.
We always help each other. Then we go to the funeral and to the graveyard
and cry all over again. Then we go back to Aunt Pet's house and eat, and the
out of town folks start leaving. Daddy, we just have to go."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Mica replied, "I
know, Rebecca," he began stroking her short brown hair. "I know,
sweet girl, but we just can't swing it right now."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Aunt Lou and Uncle John
decided to go to the funeral, so daddy rode up with them. He took the
children aside and told them to behave while he was gone. Mama stayed to work,
and while she was at work, Rebecca and Robert had to stay home by themselves.
They were not allowed to go outside until mama came home. The children
felt abandoned, and they also thought that they had abandoned all their kin.
They didn't even misbehave or fight with each other while they were home alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They laid on the bed,
looking at the clock. Robert would ask Rebecca, "What are they doing
now?" Rebecca told him, from her memories of previous wakes and funerals,
what she thought the various family members were doing. "Do you think Aunt
Betty made a banana cake?" he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Of course she did,
Robert. You can't have a proper sittin' without a banana cake and lots of
other cakes and pies. There'd also be green beans and potato salad, ham and
chicken, sandwiches, every kind of sandwich that you can think of, there'd be
pickles and beets and deviled eggs and many other things. About
everything there is to eat would be there for all the family. Friends and
family and church people see to those things. The church ladies see to the
dishes being washed up and everything else that needs to be done."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Do you think the
men go out for a snort?" Robert continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"You know they
do," Rebecca answered. "I guess they are putting what's left of him
in the ground 'bout now," Rebecca said. Then they just laid quietly
on their respective beds saying nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">When daddy got back, he
told them that it had been very sad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">7 The school Year
1955-1956<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Daddy loved to read the
newspaper, and he said that there were great ones in south Florida, unlike what
he called the "news-less near-nothing" that he got in North Carolina.
One got delivered to the house every day, and he read every word of it.
Every single word, meaning every article, every ad, every obituary …
everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At the supper table, he
would tell the family about what he read in the newspaper; including local news
and news from all over the world. He said that South Florida was in what was
called a "boom." That meant that lots of folks like them had moved
there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He told the family that
the schools were overcrowded. Rebecca and Robert did not know what that
meant, but they were anxious for school to start because they wanted to meet
more kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Daddy was afraid that
the children would get lost because the school was a long way from their house.
He made both Rebecca and Robert memorize their address, because they had
no telephone, and he made them memorize the phone number at Uncle John's store.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They were going to ride
the school bus. All they had to do was walk down their road to the bigger
road to catch the bus. "No," mama corrected. "You walk down our
avenue to the street." Rebecca had forgotten that in Fort Lauderdale that
the roads were called avenues, streets, drives, places, and boulevards, but not
roads. So far as Rebecca could tell there was only one road in all of
Fort Lauderdale and that was State Road Seven.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It was confusing to her
because all those differently named things sure looked like roads.
Anyway, they met the school bus and off they went. The farther east they
went from where they lived, the bigger the houses got.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca helped Robert
find his second-grade classroom, and she told him that she would pick him up
there after school and take him to the bus. Then, she found her
third-grade classroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">By way of introduction,
Rebecca's teacher said that they would go around the room and tell their names,
where they were from, and what they had for dinner last night. Rebecca
knew that dinner didn't mean dinner, but supper, because Aunt Lou had taught
her that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">She was sitting in the
front row of the classroom because she was small. A few kids spoke before
she did. One was from Ohio, one was from Michigan, and one was from New Jersey.
They all talked real funny, and when they said what they had for dinner,
Rebecca had no idea what they had eaten because she had never even heard of
that stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca told her name,
and where she was from then, she said, "We call our dinner supper.
We eat our dinner at noon. Last night we had pinto beans, cornbread and
arsh taters." The other children laughed. Rebecca did not say
anything. She did not know what was so funny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Her teacher said,
"Rebecca, you had pinto beans, cornbread, and Irish potatoes."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Yes, ma'am, that's
what I said."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Her teacher just smiled
at her and went on to the next student. There were thirty-four students
in the classroom which was in a little building called a "portable"
off from the main building. There was not one kid in Rebecca's class from
Florida or North Carolina. They were from places Rebecca had mostly not heard
of and to a person they talked funny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At recess, a little girl
named Linda from New York asked Rebecca what pinto beans were. Rebecca
had never heard of a person who did not know what pinto beans were, but none of
the kids knew. So, she told them it was a dried bean that turned brown
when you cooked it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Most of them knew where
North Carolina was because they had passed through it on their way to Florida,
and some of the kids started teasing Rebecca because she came from there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca just puffed up
and told them all: "I am sorry that all of you all couldn't a come from
North Carolina. It is such a beautiful place, and everybody knows that
when God decides to come back, that is where he is going to settle … out of
every place he created on earth."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"How do you know
that?" asked a boy named John from Pennsylvania.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Because,"
Rebecca replied, "where I am from everybody knows that North Carolina is
'God's Country.'"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Oh," replied
the other children impressed. Rebecca just crossed her little arms across
her puffed out chest and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"North Carolina
didn't seem so special when we passed through it, and how do you know that God
is going to settle there?" The argumentative John wanted to know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Did you come
through the mountains of western North Carolina?" Rebecca asked him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"No," the boy
replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Then, that's your
answer," said Rebecca. "It's the mountains, the streams, the rocks,
and the woods that are so special. Why one mountain not far from Turkey
Tail is shaped like a huge table. That's where God is going to sit down and
eat."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"How do you know
that and how do you know that God is going to settle there when he comes back
and not where any of us are from?" Linda asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca paused a minute,
thinking, then she replied. "Well, I don't rightly know how the secret got
out that God was going to settle in our parts, but it is easy to understand why
when you see it, and his table is there."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">John asked, "Then
why didn't anyone I know say why he wasn't going to settle in Pittsburg?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Rebecca pondered her
answer then replied, "After all he is God. I guess that he just
didn't want to hurt y' all's feelings."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The teacher, Mrs.
Johnson, had stood by listening to the conversation. She just smiled and
realized that the little southern girl was going to be all right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After school, Rebecca
picked-up Robert from his classroom in the main building. Robert was so
proud. He had only gotten into trouble three times that day for talking.
"Don't tell Daddy," he begged. Rebecca didn't, and the rest of
the school year went along about the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">© Patty F. Cooper,
October 18, 2018, Stoney Creek, TN<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
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<br />patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-31475656416473588202019-02-21T06:20:00.002-05:002019-02-21T06:20:49.509-05:00Savannah Charleston A Novel by Patty Cooper 1869 Chapter II<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSRx6jJDDRc5qe4kARa75utjUHZErIYzzDbQe3Pi2yGikQDJxk9lRfaqWOpZZQx0akWz7xsuOroZuZNKjzTZylxNrnF63qO_ZFovbSHiaucvVYIPH7DdbZbDgYdomVTOXc-zDbGhLsvM/s1600/anniversay_59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1555" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSRx6jJDDRc5qe4kARa75utjUHZErIYzzDbQe3Pi2yGikQDJxk9lRfaqWOpZZQx0akWz7xsuOroZuZNKjzTZylxNrnF63qO_ZFovbSHiaucvVYIPH7DdbZbDgYdomVTOXc-zDbGhLsvM/s320/anniversay_59.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Patty Franklin Cooper</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chapter II<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The dinner bell rang as in days of
yore at half past two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Savannah’s mother
met her in the hall and instructed her to come downstairs in five minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Where are you going Mama,” Savannah
asked?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“To join your Father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come down the stairs the way you were taught
before the war in five minutes daughter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mama won’t you tell me what is
going on?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Five minutes girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll
be waiting for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes, Mama,” Savannah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Remember, Savannah--glide and smile,
glide and smile.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">All
of the women fussed with every detail of Savannah’s attire one more time. Some were giggling, some shushing and some
looking forlorn. At exactly the
appointed time Ann, Savannah’s life-long best friend and her mother’s youngest
sister said, “It’s time love.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Savannah stood at the top of the
stairs as erect as a goddess. She slowly
started down the stairs barely holding onto the banister just as she had been
taught. She looked straight ahead as she
slowly truly seemed to glide down the long curved staircase. She couldn’t see them, but those in the
dining room could see her. Her father
gasped at the beauty of his eighteen year old daughter. Her hair was the darkest brown and she was
petite looking so much like his wife had looked at that age. She is so beautiful he thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Savannah’s mother also watched her
daughter with pride. This moment took
her back to the old south. But, the
horrible reality was that it was 1869 and things were definitely not as they
used to be. Yes, she was proud of how
graceful and poised and perfect her daughter was in this her last minute of
childhood. But Rhonda’s heart felt like
a huge stone. She had become so proud of
how Savannah had embraced the hardships after the war and how she had thrived
under the new role she accepted becoming a helper and hard worker taking up the
slack of jobs others used to do. She had
marveled as Savannah seemed to love this what was to Rhonda a horrific
afterlife. Now became the question. Now, how to proceed?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> When Savannah reached the bottom of
the stairs and turned toward the dining room she nearly swooned, because
standing beside Papa and Mama was that horrible man Reginald R. Ryan. She looked at his face for just a second and
saw the most fiendish grin then swiftly averted her eyes as she had been taught
continuing to maintain the most natural pleasant look upon her face. At that moment she was lucky to have all of
her manners fully ingrained, because </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">she
needed to rely on all of her history to remain standing to not scream out
something unseemly and to not embarrass her parents.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">But, what was he doing here?</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> General Beauford Morris stepped
forward and took his daughter’s hand.
“Savannah, although I understand you met Mr. Ryan this morning may I
properly introduce you? Savannah
Charleston Morris may I have the pleasure of introducing Mr. Reginald R. Ryan
of Surry’s Landing, South Carolina late of Newport, Rhode Island and formerly
of London, England. Mr. Ryan my daughter
Savannah Charleston.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Savannah curtsied and Mr. Ryan bowed
then Savannah extended her hand as she responded, “My pleasure Mr. Ryan.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Morris,” responded the man
in a voice sickeningly sweet as he bent and kissed her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “Grand, grand,” General Morris said,
“now let us share a meal.” He took his
wife’s arm and lead her to her place at the foot of the table pulled out her
chair and seated her. As he was doing
that, Reginald Ryan took Savannah to the side of the long polished table and
assisted her to her seat. General Morris
sat at the head of the table and Mr. Ryan sat on the side opposite Savannah
looking straight at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The household unaccustomed to
serving did an admirable job as the party ate on what was left of the best
china and silverware. It was a mismatched
service and the fare was tasty but more country kitchen garden than what would
have been previously served to a guest. There
was general chitchat during the meal, but no mention of the war.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Savannah had great difficulty eating the meal
and felt very happy that the great south took pride in their women eating like
a bird at important meals.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> After the meal Savannah’s father
said, “Before Mr. Ryan and I retire to the library we want to accompany Mrs.
Morris and Savannah into the parlor.”
Once in the formerly ornate sitting room April arrived with a glass
rather than a silver tray, because there were no more silver trays. The war took care of that. Upon the tray Savannah recognized her
father’s small remaining amount of sherry and four delicate glasses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “Thank you April please put the tray
there,” Rhonda said pointing to a table.
“You may leave us now,” she continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “General Morris will you pour,”
asked his wife? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The General moved to the table and
while pouring the sherry into the small glasses said, “Today
is a very great day. Certainly it is a
day that is cause for celebration.”
After pouring he straightened then continued, “Formerly, we would not
have such an auspicious occasion in late afternoon with only the four of us
present. Formerly, there would have been
an announcement with many more family members present, then soon thereafter a
great ball. But, times as they are we
must all adapt.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Savannah still did not know what was
going on because everything seemed so strange and so out of place. She saw that her father was holding his mouth
that little way that seemingly only she could ever recognize. It always bode badly as when he had announced
to their then much larger family in this very room that war was declared. Her mother was white as a sheet as if every
drop of her blood had drained out of her body.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The four were standing around the
table as the General handed each of them a glass of sherry.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Savannah couldn’t believe her eyes as her
mother took a glass. She never drank anything stronger than tea.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">For the first time in her life her father
handed Savannah a glass just as if it was as normal as having a glass of cool
water from the well.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After
all of them had their glasses the General raised his glass stating, “It is with
the greatest pleasure that I announce the marriage of our beloved daughter,
Savannah Charleston, to Mr. Reginald R. Ryan.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Savannah’s knees buckled, but Mr.
Ryan standing beside her while still holding his glass aloft took hold of her
elbow tightly and kept her on her feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “Now, let us all toast their
upcoming marriage and their long and happy life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Savannah did drink the sherry. Not as a toast as the others did although
that was how it seemed, but because after that announcement she just plain
needed a drink. Savannah had seen much,
and endured more, in her short life but this blow had been so unexpected. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Mr. Ryan said, “I couldn’t be
happier. When I laid my eyes on your
beautiful daughter this morning I knew at that moment that I must have her as
my wife as soon as humanly possible! Go
get the preacher!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “Now wait just one minute …” Savannah
exclaimed using the sharpest tone that she had ever used in her life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Rhonda quickly intervened, “There
there Savannah, Mr. Ryan is kidding there will be no preacher called today.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “But, no madam, I do mean call the
minister today for a wedding this evening!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Rhonda looked at Savannah who looked
as if she had been struck by lightning, “Why Mr. Ryan, what I was meaning to
say is that we have preparations to make and people to notify and it is not
seemly to marry too soon after an engagement is announced. So,” as she looked to the General for
support, “we simply must have some time to prepare.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“Quite right my dear,” the General
replied, “we must not be too hasty.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Well,
dear folks and family to be I understand your situation, but as we all know
things are no longer how they used to be.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I think that a fortnight should suffice,” Mr. Ryan pressed.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Papa, I feel rather tired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will you please grant me my leave and please
let Mother and I discuss how much time it will take us to prepare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We should know by tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well certainly daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure that Mr. Ryan can wait until
tomorrow to allow you and your mother catch your breath and to decide what you
need to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Savannah saw Mr. Ryan frown ever so
briefly and his black eyes seemed to flare once again with the anger she
witnessed just this morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The look disappeared
as quickly it had appeared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why certainly my betrothed, and that
will allow me time to bring and present to you my own dear mother’s engagement
ring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tomorrow it is!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shall we say noon?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“My two dears why don’t you go
upstairs to begin your mother daughter talks regarding preparations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please excuse us as Mr. Ryan and I retire to
the library to discuss some business and to do some serious drinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sure that my dear wife will allow me
this one time expression due to the occasion!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">end of Chapter Two</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">© Patty F. Cooper, 2018</span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-52971089397885271282016-11-11T15:32:00.000-05:002016-11-11T15:32:44.259-05:00Defiance a Poem by Patrica Cooper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqclh01y_kfefGQcIGMsTNzAJ5y74rXnQyyawhcPDG2hTebIF4JaWNAI3_d7Uto_k-n-qEcNunFHPtKta2wcM7g1lmrCvHwMm2I3JIJs922LvA3_8JHmouaitFgrFzyz2-XVt2VVFpwg/s1600/100_0326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqclh01y_kfefGQcIGMsTNzAJ5y74rXnQyyawhcPDG2hTebIF4JaWNAI3_d7Uto_k-n-qEcNunFHPtKta2wcM7g1lmrCvHwMm2I3JIJs922LvA3_8JHmouaitFgrFzyz2-XVt2VVFpwg/s320/100_0326.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you think we are going away, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you think we are going to be quiet, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you think we are going to stop, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you think we are giving up one gain, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You may wish us dead, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us with dread, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us as bleeding-hearts, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us as liberal, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us as radical, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us as nasty people, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So what. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us loving our earth, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you see us as loving people different from us, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patrica F. Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee, November
11, 2016 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©All rights reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-40266607060044405042016-07-12T10:08:00.000-04:002016-07-12T10:08:08.306-04:00She Tried to Visit A Poem<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7PdkCa03FLnyIjz7cv7viGJ_SV6iIheqQAkhcwwpS1wbgpAG7jxVGhuUw-2TzHyp2GnrxtVPaPIeUX7dj5-ZxmD_OqDyxR6Xl3k-V4PqjqR8DsFCVfqM3QXf0MNLQdvHoEg2xKqc0Gk/s1600/sunrise9272014+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL7PdkCa03FLnyIjz7cv7viGJ_SV6iIheqQAkhcwwpS1wbgpAG7jxVGhuUw-2TzHyp2GnrxtVPaPIeUX7dj5-ZxmD_OqDyxR6Xl3k-V4PqjqR8DsFCVfqM3QXf0MNLQdvHoEg2xKqc0Gk/s320/sunrise9272014+006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She came
last night <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The color of
chalk </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Her face <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Her body <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Her long
flowing gown <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A veil
covering her face <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I recognized
her </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Smiled <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Glad to see her </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
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Jumping in my sleep </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not scared <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just s</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">tartled </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She misunderstood <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Thinking I
was scared <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Left as
quick as a heartbeat <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Like a
hummingbird <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Come back I
cried <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She didn’t <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Gone <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Waking up <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not knowing
if it was real <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or a dream <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patrica F.
Cooper Elizabethton, TN July 12<sup>th</sup>, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© All Rights
Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-91878684377578442302016-03-04T10:59:00.002-05:002016-03-04T10:59:16.596-05:00Trashing Paradise, by Patrica F. Cooper<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Anyone from anywhere in the world who visits eastern
Tennessee remarks about how beautiful it is.
That is because it is stunningly beautiful. We have mountains bordered by mountains in
every direction. We have large expanses
of woods green in the summer and branches, creeks and rivers full of stones and
boulders rounded by the eons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We have trout, deer, bears and a large assortment of
smaller mammals and many types of birds including wild turkeys. We have woods that flower in the spring with
redbud, dogwood and other wonderful specimens.
Then, from summer through fall we have other flowering trees. We have distinctive types of trees and plants
many with medicinal uses. We have
wildflowers that will set your heart to beating with their color and shapes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We have all these things and almost to a person people
are proud of their Appalachian heritage and the beauty of these hills and
valleys. There is, however, one thing
that covers many of the roadsides, woods and streams that we cannot be proud of
and that is trash. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">No one can make me understand why people litter to
such a degree that we cannot enjoy any natural scene without the addition of Styrofoam,
paper products, plastic of all varieties, cans, bottles, trash bags … sometimes
even full of trash and the list goes on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How can people say they love and care about this place
(and other places, too) when they actually use that place as a garbage dump? If we are lucky enough to live in paradise
then let us begin to treat it like paradise.
That just does not go for eastern Tennessee, but for every place where
humans find themselves. Deal? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patrica F. Cooper<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Elizabethton, TN<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">February 4<sup>th</sup>, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© All Rights Reserved </span></div>
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<br /></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-60576969148923555262016-02-21T11:28:00.000-05:002016-02-21T12:01:03.966-05:00Lucky Dimples: Fiction, a Naomi Childers Story, by Patrica F. Cooper<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Edgar and
Naomi had gone to bed. It was cold, but
unlike many of their neighbors in Cold Lake, Tennessee they had a good heating
system and a tight warm house. They had
just settled down to watch television hoping to lull each of them into the
nightscape when the sirens started.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They lived
right on the main highway and daily emergency vehicles passed their house with
sirens wailing. Every time they passed
Naomi would stop and pray for the responders and for whomever they were
responding to. Her friend, Thelma, had
taught her that while she lived in Kentucky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One day
during an Extension meeting when Thelma was speaking she stopped dead still in
the middle of a sentence and bowed her head.
When she looked up she told the group that she lived in the flight path
of the medical helicopter taking the most serious cases from their hospital to
the regional hospital and every time the helicopter passed over her house she
would stop and pray for the safety of the workers and for the person being
transported. Naomi vowed then and there
to pray every time an emergency vehicle passed.
She was still doing it all these years later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Naomi could
generally tell how serious the situation was by the speed of the emergency vehicle
and the number of vehicles. Tonight the
vehicles were flying and soon followed by more.
After seven vehicles went up two came speeding back down the roadway
from the opposite direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She couldn’t
keep herself from speculating about what was going on. At first she thought it was a bad wreck on
their road known to motorcyclists as the road with five-hundred curves. Later she guessed a house fire as the
responders kept coming. She wondered where
they found so many to come to their remote region near the pointy finger part
of Tennessee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When she
lost count at twenty-five she knew that the situation was serious. Maybe a murder. Edgar even got up and went out on the porch
to look. When he came back in he said,
“It looks like a high-speed nighttime parade.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The next
morning it made the news. There stood
her friend, Sheriff Matt Stephens, with whom she had solved the murder mystery
that became known as “The Body in Cold Rock Creek.” Stephens was recounting the events of the
previous night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Later, when
Naomi called him he told her the story in greater detail. He said that he had gone up Cold Rock Creek
to see Deputy John Hill who had been sick.
“I was closest when the call came in.
The dispatcher said that a neighbor called reporting a man walking
around his yard with a rifle cursing to high heaven. It was on Springs Road. When I rolled up there was nobody outside. About that time Deputy Rogers got there with
a new officer Missy Parker. They stopped
in the middle of the road and exited their vehicle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The sheriff
continued, “Rogers said that he yelled to Parker, as she got out of the patrol
car to get down. Just then she turned
and apparently opened her mouth to speak.
A shot rang out. No warning just
a shot. Parker slumped to the
ground. Both Rogers and I ran to her and
pulled her behind the car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I
called for an ambulance which, as it turns out, was already on route. The call went out, ‘Officer down.’ We were able to get Parker down the road to
the ambulance and they escorted her to the airport where she was
air-lifted to the regional hospital. I
don’t mind telling you, Naomi, I was scared.
We didn’t know how bad Parker was hurt.
It crossed my mind how young she was and just hired two weeks ago
straight out of the academy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Stephens
obviously sniffled and he cleared his throat before continuing. “By that time the perp was shooting nonstop
and had obviously changed weapons to an assault rifle. We were pinned down, but some officers who
got to the scene were able to get the neighbors out of their house to safety. Every officer around, regardless of who they
worked for sped to the scene. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“The
shooting finally stopped. We had not
returned fire, because we couldn’t see anything to shoot at and we were unsure
who else was in the mobile home where the perp had retreated. By the time SWAT went in he was gone. The back door was open. At daylight we apprehended him hiding in a
ditch. He gave up peacefully. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“I
understand Parker will be all right,” he said.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">We hung up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">About a week
later, Naomi went up to mountain to visit her friend Jen Barrows and they began
talking about the incident. “You know I
go to church with Missy Parker,” Jen said. “Knowed her all her life. Sweet girl, pretty girl. She has a big mouth. Now, mind you, Naomi, I don’t mean she runs
her mouth all the time. I mean she has a
large mouth and it was open when the shot rang out. The bullet went through one cheek and because
her mouth was wide open, and she had not spoken yet it went right through the one
cheek and out the other missing her tongue and all of her teeth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“My word,”
Naomi gasped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yes, it was
a miracle her mother told me. As luck
would have it when Missy got to the medical center there was a plastic surgeon
who had admitted a patient who had a reaction to a medication she had been
given when she was having her eyelids done in his office. You know they have what are called ‘hospitalists’
now and a person’s real doctor isn’t supposed to come to the hospital, but this
guy came anyway as a visitor to see his patient.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jen went on
with her story, “Well, they were so overwhelmed with what to do when they saw Missy’s
injuries that when this plastic surgeon was walking out through the emergency
room one of the doctors recognized him
and asked him to come and look and tell them what to do. Missy was conscious. He looked at her and said, ‘Sweetie, this is
your lucky day. I can fix this.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Her mother
said that the doctor said that she nodded.
Somehow,” Jen went on, “the hospital gave this doctor permission to
operate so he did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“Missy’s
mother was in her room after the surgery and she said that the doctor told
Missy that after all the swelling was down and the </span><span style="line-height: 17.12px;">stitches</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> were out that she
was going to be even prettier than she was before she was shot. ‘Because,’ he
said, ‘I gave you two of the deepest most beautiful dimples that ever was on
any woman.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“And, do you
know what, Naomi? That girl is a
picture. She was pretty before, but she
could be a beauty queen now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The local
paper did a feature article on Missy Parker with before and after pictures and
by golly, Jen was right. The young woman
was a beauty. The reporter asked Missy
if she minded her new nickname Dimples.
“No,” Missy replied, “but my nickname for myself is Lucky Dimples.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The reporter
asked Deputy Parker if she was going to stay in law enforcement and if she was
scared when she rolled up on a call?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yes,” Missy
told her, “I am going to stay in law enforcement.” She continued, “I am scared when I come onto
the scene, but all cops are, or should be, but that is where your training
takes over and why you are more alert. Now,
however, I steel myself and tell myself … Perp, you better watch out, because Lucky
Dimples is here and you have me to deal with now.” Then she smiled her deep dimples showing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patrica F.
Cooper Elizabethton, TN February 21<sup>st</sup>, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© All Rights
Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-53985094569997967912016-02-20T10:25:00.001-05:002016-02-20T10:27:37.992-05:00Eagle Soar Non-fiction by Patrica F. Cooper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXGpnm8uz6BX08130Sx0z5df2dSIqH4ZY1UhZaKb1K8Dsk-FWKAlBN-lmiYCu0gixfHtwnbNL8v7HyhZInV-RFcg5Iiy6715lcLny9d2ki3TQX4iGfIpgPpgrQJRGOgje9qkrQwnQ3FI/s1600/2010-bald-eagle-with-fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXGpnm8uz6BX08130Sx0z5df2dSIqH4ZY1UhZaKb1K8Dsk-FWKAlBN-lmiYCu0gixfHtwnbNL8v7HyhZInV-RFcg5Iiy6715lcLny9d2ki3TQX4iGfIpgPpgrQJRGOgje9qkrQwnQ3FI/s320/2010-bald-eagle-with-fish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On the way home from the grocery store, at the stop
light by the small airport down the road from </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">the</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> house I thought that I had
lost my mind.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Again.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I saw what I thought was an eagle in flight. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I told Ed about it, but I thought I must have been
mistaken. Sure, we live in the midst of
a national forest in a land so wild that the song birds don’t even know to get
the seeds from the bird feeder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">There is
a university camera set up watching two eagles nest about sixty miles from us,
but there were no reports of an eagle or pair nearby. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then, this morning in the newspaper were two pictures
of an eagle. One in a tree and another
of one in flight near the airport on Thursday.
Someone captured the picture of the eagle I saw as it flew across and
over the road right when I saw it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How about that for a coincidence? I actually saw an eagle soar not five miles
down the road from where we live. I hope
that eagle finds a mate and decides to set up housekeeping, hopefully in our
woods on our creek in a tree right next to where our blue heron lives most of
the time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patrica F. Cooper, Elizabethton, TN February 20<sup>th</sup>,
2016 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© All Rights Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-37188184839621506742016-01-05T13:03:00.001-05:002016-01-05T13:03:57.473-05:00The Meat of the Matter<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLJ_IFhwvRrCw8FANAXb9ao84XqgUW-kiliaRu8fiEm7XjyPsGD6akI67-8CS_nHcfpjFl0Y9AI-fHXqmQl7AkewH5TsPmfXjRIMvhJocY6mJEqBo1-taVxPteeQhIkO4GtAgAr_pdePs/s1600/group_grazing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLJ_IFhwvRrCw8FANAXb9ao84XqgUW-kiliaRu8fiEm7XjyPsGD6akI67-8CS_nHcfpjFl0Y9AI-fHXqmQl7AkewH5TsPmfXjRIMvhJocY6mJEqBo1-taVxPteeQhIkO4GtAgAr_pdePs/s320/group_grazing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Good news …
the US Congress and the President signed a budget agreement. The bad news is at least one item in the
budget is devastating for American consumers who want to know the origins of their red meat (including pork). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now, the US
may <b><i>NOT</i></b>
put individual labels on its meat stating where the animal was born, raised or
slaughtered. The US lost their appeals
in front of the World Trade Organization (WTO) and faced massive retaliation if
they did not stop the practice of individual package labeling of meat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am
livid. I want to know where my meat
comes from. I demand to know! Today, I wrote to my two US Senators and my
US Representative asking if there would be any laws broken if the food stores
advertised where they get their meat?
Not putting on individual package labels, but just as a store or company
policy telling us the place of birth, growth and slaughter of their meat
products. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">With food
safety becoming a greater threat all of the time, I think we consumers deserve
to know the origins of our foods. If, I
hear from these representatives, I will let you know what they say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the meantime,
I plan to seek out a local slaughter house with a butcher shop so that I can
know where the meat I plan to serve my family comes from. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I additionally
also want to know where the fruits and vegetables come from and I want to know
every ingredient in packaged foods. So,
I guess, that I am truly becoming a fan of “eat and grow local.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What are
your opinions on these matters? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patrica F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, TN January 5<sup>th</sup>, 2016 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All rights
reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-10151784780729402572015-11-03T11:50:00.000-05:002015-11-03T17:15:26.180-05:00Mama I Was Born on the Wrong Planet Please Come Get Me <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51Km-KJCyuZ8q24E5ZN_qmqrUYINapRXArEzONYE27Sk2XclHCSFOiF7zsGR7s191JTbBNd8s06YZq8dgL8MK5BDH2NQHEtxRjtTEw2Ijn6OOc3u6kCRZbqDFvs8sQuHyrtvHIzrNczQ/s1600/nasa-solar-system+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51Km-KJCyuZ8q24E5ZN_qmqrUYINapRXArEzONYE27Sk2XclHCSFOiF7zsGR7s191JTbBNd8s06YZq8dgL8MK5BDH2NQHEtxRjtTEw2Ijn6OOc3u6kCRZbqDFvs8sQuHyrtvHIzrNczQ/s320/nasa-solar-system+%25281%2529.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
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<br />
Fiction<br />
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mama, where are you?
I was born on the wrong planet to the wrong people no doubt. Why have you</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> not come to get me?</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It took me a long time to know that I was in
the wrong place, but surely I must be.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">I
know that I cannot belong here, because they tell me so ... show me so. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I was young I kind of felt at home. I love the beauty of Earth. At first adults and kids seemed to like me,
but as I got older, and especially now, I know that I must have been
mistaken. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I accepted God early, but it took me a long time to
become a Christian. I did not believe in
the Immaculate Conception for one.
Later, however, I realized that God can do anything and that he does not
make mistakes, but did he make just one with me? Did he put me on the wrong planet with the
wrong family and with the wrong people?
People I can no longer call friends, because we cannot seem to
agree about a single thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It would not be so bad to disagree … if they would
listen to me. I listen to them and I try
to understand them, but I cannot; although, I do love them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you came to get me would you ask me how we were so
far apart on things? I would hope
so. Would you, and those of your kind,
understand me? I would hope so. Would we want the same things? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Would you understand these things? I want peace.
I want no genocide. I want people
to be able to stay in their homes and to be safe. I want them to have work and with that
work to make enough money to be able to support their families and to have food
and clean water and a roof over their heads.
I want us to take care of the poor and the disabled. I want us to be kind to one another and
generous. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I want mothers and fathers to get along and to
treat each other and their children and families and neighbors with
respect. I want to see joy. I want all their children to be able to
go to schools where they are safe and can learn. I want them to feel valued in those schools
by everyone who is there, and I want them to do the same. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That is called the Golden Rule here. Is it the same
there on your planet? The one where
surely I belong. Where are you
mother? Where have you always been? Are you looking for me to bring me home to
the place where I belong with a planet full of people who long for the things I
long for? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Jesus said it best in Mark 12: 30-31. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart
and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as
yourself.’ There is no commandment
greater than these.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mother, does that not mean exactly what it says? Are we not supposed to believe these two
commandments? Perhaps, you and home will
only be in Heaven and not on another planet. I wait.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patty F. Cooper November 3<sup>rd</sup>, 2015 Elizabethton,
TN <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-87521388325559502042015-05-09T13:00:00.000-04:002015-05-09T13:00:28.302-04:00The Mother’s Day Secret<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mother’s Day is celebrated the second Sunday in May in
the United States. It is a big deal and
mothers are put foremost into the minds of the populace and supposedly their
children. There is, however, one very
big secret—and it is not what their children are getting them or doing for them
on Mother’s Day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The big secret that is not supposed to be thought or spoken
is: <b><i>Not all mothers are deserving of a special day. <o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, I said it out loud and in written form—not all
mothers are deserving of a day, because there are many mothers who are terrible
mothers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Okay, I get that I may have just lost a huge number of
my readers. To those of you who are
still here, that unfortunately probably means that you know what I am talking
about. If you know what I mean, then I
am truly sorry if that means that your mother or someone you know deserves a
day of <i>unrecognition</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What mothers am I talking about? Some examples are mothers who abuse and
neglect their children. They can verbally
or sexually abuse or otherwise use their children. There are mothers who kill their children and
there are mothers who kill the souls of their children. Feel free to insert your own examples from
your own life here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That said, everybody realizes no mother is perfect. All mothers have made mistakes and many have
been forgiven by their children for their deeds or their omissions. Perhaps, they recognized their shortcomings
and may have apologized to their children.
I think that is one of the signs of a good mother. A person who is willing to admit those things that nagged their conscience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am writing this to say to children, young or old,
who have suffered terribly under their mothers be they alive or dead, you are
not alone. You are not the only person
who hates this day and wishes that it wasn’t on the calendar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe your mother is still alive and you go to the
store trying to find a Mother’s Day card that doesn’t say anything. Or maybe you go to the store and buy a card
that is all gushy and says what you know is a blatant lie, because maybe you
are still trying to fit in, or be accepted or keep peace within your family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe you do not want your friends, extended family or
coworkers to know that you are or were abused, neglected or an unloved
child—even if you are an adult. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am not judging you for whatever choices you make
regarding this day. Anything that helps
you through it I am for. More power to
you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are an individual who decided to leave and not
to participate with the person called by others your mother … more power to
you, too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I just mainly wanted all of us fellow suffers to know
that there are those of us who share the lifeboat with you. It is a sad place to be when you know that
you were unloved, unwanted, uncared for or any other combination of
circumstances. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I pray, that you do not shoulder the guilt your mother tried to lay on you and that you have been able to learn to love yourself
and those around you. I hope that if
you, man or woman, have children that your mother taught you exactly how not to
be a mother and that you have been able to pattern yourself after a much better
role model and that you can or have become a wonderful mother, father, aunt,
uncle or friend to your own children or the children of others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To the young people who may be reading this, I hope
that you will seek out women who embrace you and see you as the person you are and
can become. I wish you a fulfilling life
surrounded by people who love you. I
hope that you learn to love and to be loved, because you are a human being a person who deserves a spot on this planet we call Earth. You have a place just because you are and I
pray that you can shrug off the guilt your mother tried to place on you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For those of you who are or were privileged to have
good mothers be thankful and may you enjoy this day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For the rest of us, God bless us one and all and thank
God we have a whole year before we get back to Mother’s Day. May you, and I, gain a greater degree of
strength by then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patty F. Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee, May 10<sup>th</sup>,
2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-20553514545073659362015-04-28T13:31:00.001-04:002015-04-28T13:31:59.670-04:00May My Favorite Month<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxi70CLlkgg1hCB66nga9ZXIJVbdeGMUFzKnoMn5dGRJ-SFrTs5lQDb3A7snyw4S-nkeSSxJxk2ES4j1aBoJbBVr1Nvn-HTyAbsVQ6OEjc2ecfe78gg4-HKoXw3_e_FtTVuhKLApBYRY/s1600/plants+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxi70CLlkgg1hCB66nga9ZXIJVbdeGMUFzKnoMn5dGRJ-SFrTs5lQDb3A7snyw4S-nkeSSxJxk2ES4j1aBoJbBVr1Nvn-HTyAbsVQ6OEjc2ecfe78gg4-HKoXw3_e_FtTVuhKLApBYRY/s1600/plants+003.JPG" height="241" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">May has
always been my favorite month even before the birth of my first child. Maybe it was because it was always warm, but
not too hot. Maybe it was because there
were always so many beautiful flowers in bloom or the fact that school was
nearly out. I really do not know why I
always loved May so much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My oldest
son’s first birthday was on my first Mother’s Day. How special is that? Now that I am older May has become my
bittersweet month. One of my favorite
cousin’s birthday was in May and he died last year. Some years ago my beloved father died on May
21<sup>st</sup> a date I always loved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I was
young I proclaimed May 21<sup>st</sup> as my favorite day of the year. I remembered that even after my father died,
so it became a day of sadness and a day of hope, because of how special it had
been to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This year,
May 21<sup>st</sup> will become one of the most poignant days of my life,
because it was the day my precious great granddaughter, Avery Grace, was
due. She died an intrauterine death in
February. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So, as May
approaches I hope that I can remember what a spectacular month it is and I hope
that I can celebrate my son’s birthday with unabashed joy. I hope that I can see the beauty of May and
that the many good things about the month will serve to give me hope amidst my
sorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I pray for
my grandchildren who lost their baby daughter, and for the rest of us who loved
her so much. I picture my father in
heaven holding her and rocking her along with my baby brother, who only lived
three days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am reminded
of the love and sacrifice of our Savior Jesus Christ who lived, died, rose from
the tomb after three days so that all who believe in him and the Father may
have eternal life and be extremely blessed with the hope of being reunited with
our loved ones someday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patty F.
Cooper, April 28<sup>th</sup>, 2015, Elizabethton, Tennessee <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">All Rights Reserved </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-13705658633473210762015-04-14T11:54:00.003-04:002015-04-14T11:54:21.882-04:00School Year 1955-1956: Segment seven from the series Uprooted<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Segment
seven from the fictional series <i>Uprooted</i>,
about an Appalachian family living in south Florida from 1955 through the
1960’s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Daddy loved
to read the newspaper, and he said that there were really good ones in south
Florida unlike what he called the “news-less near-nothing” that he got in North
Carolina. One got delivered to the house
every day and he read every word of it.
Every single word, meaning every article, every ad, every obituary …
everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At the
supper table he would tell the family about what he read in the newspaper;
including local news and news from all over the world. He said that south
Florida was in what was called a “boom.”
That meant that lots of folks like them had moved there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He told the
family that the schools were overcrowded.
Rebecca and Robert did not know what that meant but they were anxious
for school to start, because they wanted to meet more kids. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Daddy was
afraid that the children would get lost, because the school was a long way from
their house. He made both Rebecca and
Robert memorize their address, because they had no telephone, and he made them memorize
the phone number at Uncle John’s store. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They were
going to ride the school bus. All they
had to do was walk down their road to the bigger road to catch the bus. “No,” mama corrected. “You walk down our avenue to the street.” Rebecca had forgotten that in Fort Lauderdale
that the roads were called avenues, streets, drives, places and boulevards, but
not roads. So far as Rebecca could tell
there was only one road in all of Fort Lauderdale and that was State Road Seven. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was
confusing to her, because all those differently named things sure looked like
roads. Anyway, they met the school bus
and off they went. The farther east they
went from where they lived the bigger the houses got. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca
helped Robert find his second grade classroom and she told him that she would
pick him up there after school and take him to the bus. Then, she found her third grade classroom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">By way of
introduction, Rebecca’s teacher said that they would go around the room and
tell their names, where they were from and what they had for dinner last
night. Rebecca knew that dinner didn’t
mean dinner, but supper, because Aunt Lou had taught her that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She was sitting
on the front row of the classroom, because she was small. A few kids spoke before she did. One was from Ohio, one was from Michigan and
one was from New Jersey. They all talked
real funny and when they said what they had for dinner, Rebecca had no idea
what they had eaten, because she had never even heard of that stuff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca told
her name and where she was from then she said, “We call our dinner supper. We eat our dinner at noon. Last night we had pinto beans, corn bread and
arsh taters.” The other children
laughed. Rebecca did not say anything. She did not know what was so funny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Her teacher
said, “Rebecca you had pinto beans, corn bread and Irish potatoes.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yes ma’am,
that’s what I said.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Her teacher
just smiled at her and went on to the next student. There were thirty-four students in the
classroom which was in a little building called a “portable” off from the main
building. There was not one kid in
Rebecca’s class from Florida or North Carolina.
They were from places Rebecca had mostly not heard of and to a person
they talked funny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At recess a
little girl named Linda from New York asked Rebecca what pinto beans were. Rebecca had never heard of a person who did
not know what pinto beans were, but none of the kids knew. So, she told them it was a dried bean that
turned brown when you cooked it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Most of them
knew where North Carolina was, because they had passed through it on their way
to Florida and some of the kids started teasing Rebecca because she came from
there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca just
puffed up and told them all: “I am sorry
that all of you all couldn’t a come from North Carolina. It is such a beautiful place and everybody
knows that when God decides to come back that is where he is going to settle … out
of every place he created on earth.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How do you
know that?” asked a boy named John from Pennsylvania. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Because,”
Rebecca replied, “where I am from everybody knows that North Carolina is ‘God’s
Country.’” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Oh,”
replied the other children impressed.
Rebecca just crossed her little arms across her puffed out chest and
smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“North
Carolina didn’t seem so special when we passed through it and how do you know
that God is going to settle there?” The
argumentative John wanted to know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Did you
come through the mountains of western North Carolina?” Rebecca asked him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No,” the
boy replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Then,
that’s your answer,” said Rebecca. “It’s
the mountains, the streams, the rocks and the woods that are so special. Why one mountain not far from Turkey Tail is
shaped like a real big table. That’s where
God is going to sit down and eat.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How do you
know that and how do you know that God is going to settle there when he comes
back and not were any of us are from?” Linda asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca
paused a minute thinking, then she replied.
“Well, I don’t rightly know how the secret got out that God was going to
settle in our parts, but it is easy to understand why when you see it and his
table is there.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">John asked,
“Then why didn’t anyone I know say why he wasn’t going to settle in Pittsburg?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca
pondered her answer then replied, “After all he is God. I guess that he just didn’t want to hurt y’all’s
feelings.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The teacher,
Mrs. Johnson, had stood by listening to the conversation. She just smiled and realized that the little
southern girl was going to be all right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After school
Rebecca picked-up Robert from his classroom in the main building. Robert was so proud. He had only gotten into trouble three times
that day for talking. “Don’t tell
Daddy,” he begged. Rebecca didn’t and
the rest of the school year went along about the same. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patty F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee, April 14<sup>th</sup>, 2015 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights
Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-19022588027116236532015-04-04T13:32:00.004-04:002015-04-04T13:43:12.021-04:00Summer Tragedy 1955: Segment six from the Series Uprooted, (About an Appalachian family living in south Florida from 1955 through the 1960's.)<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We settled
in the new house and after the new furniture was in place we had just enough
room to walk around. Daddy set up the TV
in the living room and put up an outside antenna that he could go out and turn
depending on which station we were going to watch. We were so excited, because there were three
stations that we could get out of Miami.
Three stations! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">One day in
August we got terrible news. One of
Daddy’s older brothers used to live next door to us in North Carolina. We were real close. His wife had died of brain cancer when
Rebecca was real little. Now, there was
just him and his son, Lin. Lin loved
airplanes and made models and hung them by fishing line from the ceiling of an
outbuilding that his daddy had given him to use as his own workshop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Lin was real
quiet, but he would always let the children in to see his planes and he joined
the service about a year before the family moved to Florida. He was stationed in Germany. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca and
Robert were not called to supper. That
had never happened. They always pushed
coming in from play to the last minute, but when they weren’t called they got
curious and went home. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They found
daddy sitting on the couch. Just sitting
there. He hadn’t cooked supper and mama
was still at work. He looked up but he
didn’t say anything. Both of the
children realized that he looked funny.
“What’s wrong Daddy?” both of the children asked in unison. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Lin is
dead,” he replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Dead?” both
children said at once. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How,
Daddy?” Rebecca asked as she slumped at his feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Robert sat
down beside daddy and buried his head against daddy’s arm already crying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mica told
the children what he knew. “He was
flying in a plane they call a boxcar and his plane and another one collided in
mid-air.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca
jumped up saying, “But, Daddy that is not possible. Look up at the sky. There is just so much room up there that it
would be impossible for two planes to hit each other. That can’t be right.” </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Rebecca, it
would seem that you should be right, but they did hit head-on and all aboard both
planes were killed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Well, when
are we leaving for North Carolina for the funeral?” Robert asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“We aren’t
going,” Daddy replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Not going
to the funeral ….” Rebecca couldn’t
believe what she was hearing. “But,
Daddy everybody always comes to the funerals from no matter where they
are. Always. You know we all have to bring food in and sit
with each other and pet Uncle Ice. We
have to go. We always talk and are all
so sad together then we begin telling stories about the person and start
laughing at those stories. We always
help each other. Then we go to the
funeral and to the graveyard and cry all over again. Then we go back to Aunt Pet’s house and eat
and the out of town folks start leaving.
Daddy we just have to go.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mica
replied, “I know, Rebecca,” he began stroking her short brown hair. “I know, sweet girl, but we just can’t swing
it right now.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Aunt Lou and
Uncle John decided to go to the funeral so daddy rode up with them. He took the children aside and told them to
behave while he was gone. Mama stayed to
work and while she was at work Rebecca and Robert had to stay home by
themselves. They were not allowed to go
outside until mama came home. The
children felt abandoned and they also felt that they had abandoned all their
kin. They didn’t even misbehave or fight
with each other while they were home alone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They laid on
the bed looking at the clock. Robert
would ask Rebecca, “What are they doing now?” </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Rebecca told him, from her memories of previous wakes and funerals, what
she thought the various family members were doing.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">“Do you think Aunt Betty made a banana cake?”
he asked. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Of course
she did, Robert. You can’t have a proper
sittin’ without a banana cake and lots of other cakes and pies. There’d also be green beans and potato salad,
ham and chicken, sandwiches, every kind of sandwich that you can think of,
there’d be pickles and beets and deviled eggs and many other things. About everything there is to eat would be
there for all the family. Friends and
family and church people see to those things.
The church ladies see to the dishes being washed up and everything else
that needs to be done.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Do you
think the men go out for a snort?” Robert continued. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You know
they do,” Rebecca answered. “I guess
they are putting what’s left of him in the ground ‘bout now,” Rebecca
said. Then they just laid quietly on
their respective beds saying nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When daddy
got back he told them that it had been very sad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patty F.
Cooper, April 4<sup>th</sup>, 2015, Elizabethton, Tennessee <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© All Rights
Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-52006783348705617262015-04-03T11:11:00.001-04:002015-04-03T16:35:35.378-04:00Our New House<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">From the
series <i>Uprooted, </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Segment five <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After having
endured a horrible summer after arriving in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida Rebecca and
Robert’s mama and daddy started looking for a new house. They lived with Aunt Lou and Uncle John, but
as kind as they were it was time to establish their own home once again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The children
were excited about getting a new house.
They also loved shopping for furniture and just could not wait until
they had their own house and rooms once more.
That was until mama and daddy showed them the house they bought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After going
through it, Rebecca innocently asked, “Where is the rest of it?” The house was so small and all the rooms so
small that she actually thought that the house was her new playhouse and she
excitedly ran out the door looking for the main house. Instead she saw another small house feet from
both the front door and the back door with a smelly garbage dump at the back of
the small lot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“This is the
house,” mama said when Rebecca came back in with a questioning look on her
young face. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“But where
is Robert supposed to sleep?” Rebecca innocently asked. “There are only two small bedrooms.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Well,”
daddy said, “You will share this room,” he said pointing to the larger of the
two small bedrooms. “You will each have
a brand new twin foam rubber bed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Oh,”
Rebecca responded as she sadly lowered her head. She realized that this was the best that mama
and daddy could do, but she once again wondered why they had sold their big
house on the big lot in North Carolina to come here to live like this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">She innocently
asked, “But, where are the orange trees.
I thought that there were supposed to be orange trees everywhere. There are no trees whatsoever or even grass
in the yard.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Daddy
replied, “See those little sprigs of grass?
They will grow together to form a solid mat of grass.” Rebecca and Robert shot looks to each other
saying that they neither one believed him, but as time went on those shoots of
wiry grass did intertwine to form a green lawn, but the grass was sharp and not
soft like North Carolina grass and it became just one more thing about South
Florida that the children did not like. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At least the
children had greater freedom once moving to the new housing development. There were at least a few other children
there and they could play on the mounds of powdery white sand where the pine
trees and palmettos had been bull-dozed before the land was once again leveled
to build more of the tiny houses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They even went
with daddy foraging into the dump that started at their back yard and they were
amazed at the good stuff they found that rich people had thrown away. At least that was something. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To be
continued …. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patty Cooper,
Elizabethton, Tennessee April 3, 2015 </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 17.1199989318848px;">©</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> All Rights Reserved </span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-83151135414980812262015-02-14T10:27:00.006-05:002015-02-14T11:11:05.477-05:00Not Everybody Has a Valentine<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not
everybody has a Valentine. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some died. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some never
appeared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some who
have no Valentine are fine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some glad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some sad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have a
Valentine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A real one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Based on
real love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not pretend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have not
always had a Valentine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I remember. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Someday,
through circumstances we do not control. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It may be so
again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then, I will
remember today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patty F. Cooper, Elizabethton, TN <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">February 14<sup>th</sup>,
2015 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights
Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-47147495533395092722015-01-07T11:03:00.000-05:002015-01-07T15:55:32.910-05:00I Hate Winter<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngE8ICEFu3H6d3Scn6Slg5nOpoJGb0-o7h5Q6NXK8GqIrKwq7iOKzRmxQ9Q30KHrES0vZav5N1JaClHUV674wdd3jbkv69_YeJaw1M2YVNygfI0BDS6n9C6Mk_fL0ZlYCsPM6Vt9X6E0/s1600/I+hate+Winter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngE8ICEFu3H6d3Scn6Slg5nOpoJGb0-o7h5Q6NXK8GqIrKwq7iOKzRmxQ9Q30KHrES0vZav5N1JaClHUV674wdd3jbkv69_YeJaw1M2YVNygfI0BDS6n9C6Mk_fL0ZlYCsPM6Vt9X6E0/s1600/I+hate+Winter.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I mainly hate winter because it is cold. That makes me sound so superficial and
spoiled. Maybe that is true, but what is
to like about being cold even with warm clothes and in a warm house? One reason is that many of my neighbors,
mostly unknown to me, do not have what I have. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They live in sub-standard housing with the heat being
on again off again depending on whether there is money to pay the bill. Lots of folk think this is all right—even my
friends, but I do not. I hate the thoughts
of children and the elderly not having what they need. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I do not care if the children’s parents are addicted to
drugs or what other reasons may cause the circumstance. I want them all warm, fed and housed in good
conditions. Actually, we do not know what
causes some people to care so little about themselves that they would let this
happen. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I always wonder if there is anything that I—as a
single human person—can do or say to help them have a hand up. I have tried many things over the years with
many people. Some things have helped,
others not and mostly the results are unknown to me. Yet, I feel making an effort is worthwhile. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I know many other people feel as I do, but just not
most of the people I know. That makes me
feel very sad and alone. I feel like I am
always an outsider looking through a different lens at a different world than
most people. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I hate winter and it is not just because I am chilly. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.1199989318848px;">©</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Patty
F. Cooper, Elizabethton, TN January 7<sup>th</sup>, 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-15811629624808358992014-12-09T11:15:00.000-05:002014-12-09T11:15:38.717-05:00Love of Ordinary Old Houses<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When one thinks of reuse and not refuse seldom does one
think of old houses, but my husband, Ed, and I do. We never intended to remodel more than one
old house, but life happens, so it has been more than one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When remodeling old houses, ours is one hundred and
six years old, people usually think of mansions, but let me recommend redoing a
small home. Ours is nine hundred and
sixty seven square feet; although, we are planning to add a room and a half
bath making it about twelve hundred square feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">People only seem to think of the historical
significance of large homes where famous people either owned or slept, but
think of the value of restoring an old gem where ordinary people lived their
lives. We like that idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We do not know who built our home but they had good
taste, because she has a beautiful bone structure. We are trying to keep nearly all of her old
lines and moldings and interior doors, but yet she must become a place where our
lives can be comfortably lived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We always start with redoing all of the wiring, then
comes the roof, plumbing, heating system, insulation and windows. We focus on the kitchen and bathroom. All the beautification comes last. Paint becomes one of your best friends. We used to do much of the remodeling
ourselves, but now we have most of it done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It costs a lot of money to remodel, but the
combination of buying and remodeling usually costs less than purchasing a lot,
septic tank, mobile home, etc. or all new construction for the same amount of
space. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There are many lower cost good craftsmen and vendors
in our two state area which makes things more affordable. The biggest problem is having the fortitude
to see the project through. The rewards
are great, because you will end up with a nice place to live and you will have
preserved an historical property for yourself, your community and for future
generations to enjoy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> ©Patty F.
Cooper December 9<sup>th</sup>, 2014 Elizabethton, TN<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-90761053914831916742014-10-14T09:21:00.001-04:002014-10-14T09:21:28.314-04:00The Wind Has a Mind of Its Own<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The wind comes on unseen rails. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Going where it wants. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not paying no never mind <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To anything anyone wants or owns. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How does the wind get so powerful? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When sometimes it is not shown. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Where does it go? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">How does it get here? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes it plays gently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Softly moving the grasses and leaves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Sometimes it is so strong <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nothing can make it in its path. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Pray for soft winds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Enough to move the sails along. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Without sinking the ships <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or marking the crying of the throngs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty
F. Cooper Elizabethton, Tennessee, October 14<sup>th</sup>, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-80130506031852728492014-09-29T10:36:00.000-04:002014-09-29T10:36:15.198-04:00Plants in the Garden Fighting It Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuaYdmTbS3Ci7bIOjmErX3-02rPerPjj-7YyUCls4CRz-S0JXf1UDTd0sy1zkbThsyakB5Pz4F90Rg9r6TEIqhK8Ap-S-fuOTdY7ZAx12LowvjnYjmDIbD3Pp6ws4zUYcBgrBmHV8Dxg/s1600/plants+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuaYdmTbS3Ci7bIOjmErX3-02rPerPjj-7YyUCls4CRz-S0JXf1UDTd0sy1zkbThsyakB5Pz4F90Rg9r6TEIqhK8Ap-S-fuOTdY7ZAx12LowvjnYjmDIbD3Pp6ws4zUYcBgrBmHV8Dxg/s1600/plants+002.JPG" height="241" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Much care given to choosing just the right heirloom
tomato plant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Thoughts of late summer delight picking the red bulb. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As precious as a ruby. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Savoring its acidic flavor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Warm juices running down my hot arm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Delicious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But wait! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Looking out the backdoor at the precious plant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It has been invaded by I do not know what. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Climbing its trellis. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Its tendrils clinging. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Large green leaves smothering. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I must pull it out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Delayed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Next morning looking out seeing the glorious purple
flowers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Morning Glory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Aptly named. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Glorious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Its beauty catches my breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What to do? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Solomon’s choice comes to mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not to equate plants lives against the life of a
child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">But a hard choice nonetheless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The delicious versus the glorious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Let the plants fight it out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Picking tomatoes under Morning Glory leaves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Careful not to disturb either. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The coming freeze will do what neither Solomon nor I
could do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Choose both to die. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty
F. Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee September 29<sup>th</sup>, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-3129804649716717592014-09-19T07:43:00.001-04:002014-09-19T07:43:06.671-04:00Anguished Faces Etched in My Mind<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Anguished faces appear on the news at night. They are the faces of persons whose lives
have been disrupted by death, natural disasters or war. People who have suffered terrible losses that
they will never get over. Those are the faces
etched in my mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I feel helpless in their wake. I pray for them and I want our government to
help them, because as an individual I feel unable to do so. What can I do other than pray? I can see them, I can listen to them and I
can remember their stories. I can love
them even if from afar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Perhaps, my prayers do help and my love and my
sorrow. I will never know, because those
things are like words flung as seeds out to places the sayer of those words sow
some to grow and some to lie fallow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Nearly always when they show the drawn faces of the
adults if there is a little child near the person who is sometimes patting them
or soothing them even with just looks the child is squatting and playing if
only with a stick or a stone. The child
is smiling. The hungry thirsty child is
still smiling providing a glimpse of humanity for all of us to see. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe it is the sight of those children playing in
the dirt amongst the rubble that causes us to hope that someday there will be a
better place and life for those folks etched in my, and hopefully our, brains
and our minds. How can we not want to
help those sisters and brothers shown to us not just for the children, but for
all of them as individuals and as a collective? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If it were not for brave individuals who go to those
places to bring us those images then my mind would rove to more pleasant things, because that is how I am. But
they go and show what is out there shaking us from our comfortable places and
replacing trivia with harsh reality of natural destruction or horrors caused by
man-made evil. Sometimes they die,
because they were there to show all of us those horrors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We really can do little if anything about natural
disasters, but those folks doing evil could just stop. Even if they are doing what they think their
god wants them to do—if they stop for a moment to think then they can hear the
wee small voice in their mind and in their hearts. They know that what they are doing is wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We know this, because many people who have been a
part of committing atrocities have later admitted that they were not fully
on-board with what they were doing. They were just following orders afraid of
being killed themselves if they did not comply with the evils they were being
told to commit. Not all felt this way,
but some. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe all war falls into this category even for
those who fought on the winning side. I
know that the faces that tormented my father as he tried to sleep were with him
until the day he died. I can only hope
that after he, and others, die the individuals have a chance to meet to look at
each other seeing the others sad faces and hearts. I hope that they get to hug, talk and mend their
hearts and souls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can dream.
I just wish that it was in life rather than after death--if even then--that
we could see each other, care about each other, and want to bring smiles and
joy rather than death, destruction and despair to our neighbors twirling with
us on this small planet. I wish that we
could look, love, listen, feel and do; instead of the way we actually do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty
F. Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee September 19<sup>th</sup>, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-51015609086023073292014-09-12T08:45:00.001-04:002014-09-12T08:45:04.518-04:00Mystery of the Deep Wood<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I love to stand at the back door and look down
toward the creek. Cleaned out now of
poison ivy, hopefully, gone forever. I
love to look into the dark wood toward the cliff where trees are always falling
always changing the nature of the water flow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I hear sounds from the dark wood straining to see
yet not seeing the creatures making the sounds previously unknown and unheard
by me. Still unknown. Who or what is there? It is easy to determine birds, but what of
the other creatures? Usually early when
the day is still deep grey. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What of those sounds and the mystery from the deep
wood even as the water sounds come to my ears?
I love the dark wood and the secrets it holds. The thoughts of maybe never knowing what lurks
there even though I long to know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It makes me feel small and uneducated of sounds and
things hidden from sight. I am glad,
however, to know that there are still so many things that I do not know,
because that makes me want to continue to live to perhaps unwrap just some of
the awaiting gifts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">© Patty
F. Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee September 12, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-16553204345741908752014-09-08T07:27:00.000-04:002014-09-08T07:27:10.531-04:00The Good Worker <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fiction <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Axel knew the man they were talking about. She had wondered why he worked at the local
fast food restaurant. He seemed so
talented. She was from an adjacent Appalachian
town, so she only knew him from some work he had done for her neighbor and
seeing him at the restaurant usually outside cleaning the place up. He was real friendly and he had done a great
job putting up a fence for her neighbor.
She was out to lunch with her new friends who were commenting about fast
food workers who were trying to get a wage increase to fifteen dollars an hour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How disgraceful is that?” asked Marie. “Why would anyone without an education feel
as if they were worth fifteen dollars an hour working in a burger joint? I am dismayed. Did you see the sign that said ‘No frizs,’
bet that Humbolt put up that sign. He
can’t read, you know. Hum’s always been
dumb. He quit school in the sixth grade
and he never did learn to read or write.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Amy shook her head in agreement as she put a sweet
potato fry into her mouth. Naturally,
they weren’t eating at the fast food restaurant. They were eating at a sit down restaurant
where one ordered from a menu and a waitress brought their meals. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“He seems like a smart man to me and I think they
are paying him for his back rather than his ability to spell. He did a great job on Josie’s fence and it
was not an easy job. So,” Axel asked, “how
much do you think this waitress earns?
She introduced herself as Candy and said that she would be taking care
of us today. How much? Do you think she is worth fifteen dollars an
hour?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Axel, are you saying that you think Hum or Candy is
worth that much?” Amy, who was usually so quiet, inquired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Yes,” Axel answered with one word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Why, Honey,” Marie was attempting to explain. “Why,
Honey,” she repeated, “you know no restaurant owner can afford to pay these
people that much. Why, the food would
just be out of sight. Nobody could
afford to eat out.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Amy broke in, “And, they just aren’t worth that
much.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How much are they worth?” Axel asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Amy continued, “Well, the owner pays them some in
restaurants like this and then depending on their service they get tips. I know they earn good, and in fast food
restaurants I hear that some of them already are getting nine dollars an
hour. That is more than minimum
wage. That seems like enough to me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“How much do you earn Amy working for Private
Medical Insurance? Aren’t you a billing
clerk?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Not that it is any of your business, but I
graduated from Tech and I earn twelve dollars an hour.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Axle probed, “You think that is enough?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No,” Amy admitted as she hung her head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“What about you Marie, what do you earn being the
receptionist for that bunch of lawyers?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“I earn fourteen dollars and fifty cents an hour,
but I’ve been there six years. I started
out at eight dollars an hour.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Axle just bluntly stated, “I do not think that
either of you are earning enough and I do not think that fast food workers, or
other restaurant workers or, in fact, workers in general are earning enough.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Sh, Axel, you can’t say that. Someone,” Amy said looking around the
restaurant hurriedly to see who was there, “might hear you. We could lose our jobs.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Just saying,” Axel continued quietly, “I think that
people who go out and give a solid days work should get a fair days pay that is
enough so that they can keep a roof over their heads, their utilities paid,
food in their houses, clothes on themselves and their kids and keep some kind
of a car running. You know, at least the
basics.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You forgot about car insurance, medical insurance
and taxes. It sure would be nice to go
out to eat more than once a month—if that, and to order what you wanted off the
menu rather than the cheapest thing on it,” Marie added. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Wouldn’t that be something,” Amy agreed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Candy came back to the table once again to see if
they wanted refills on their sweet tea.
Axel had counted and she had come to the table seven times. She came back an eighth time to bring their
separate checks. Then a ninth time to
bring their change. She had been serving
them for an hour and a half. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When they got up to leave Axel noticed that both Amy
and Marie each left their server one dollar and some change which was about a
seven percent tip. Axel left ten dollars
which was more than the base price of her lunch special. Unbeknownst to her companions she had been a
waitress many times through high school and later as a second or third job to
make ends meet and to feed her kids before she got her college degree and her
good job. So, as a small mission she always
tried to help her sisters-of-serve get just a little more than they were
expecting. She had been lucky so she
could do at least that much. She was, however, unsure if their combined tips
and what the woman earned at the restaurant added up to fifteen dollars an
hour. She hoped that it did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As she was driving home she passed the sign once
again. Someone had changed it and it
read, “Sorry, no fries.” She remembered
the days of getting up to be at work by four-thirty A.M. to cook four-hundred
and fifty biscuits at a fast food restaurant.
She still felt like Hum and all the other low wage workers should be
paid a fair price for their labor, but she felt sad because she knew that she
was in the minority. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, TN, September 8<sup>th</sup>, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-56118230021444154192014-08-29T19:58:00.000-04:002014-08-29T19:58:06.599-04:00I Bought a Horse<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Today, became one of the most empowering days of my
life. I bought a horse. Now, I am no spring chicken, but buying a
horse wasn’t really a check off my bucket list; although, some might think so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Earlier this summer I looked at this same horse, rode
him and then said no to buying him, because of all sorts of sensible reasons,
but I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I
wanted this horse. I really wanted him
practicality aside. Way aside. I just wanted him. Selfishly so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That is the main reason that buying him was so
empowering. I did it just for me. Several years ago, my husband, Ed, and I
moved from south Florida to a large farm in Kentucky. It had a big barn and an amazingly large
field. I wanted a horse so much, but I
wouldn’t let myself get one, because it was dangerous and what if I fell and
hurt myself and couldn’t handle my responsibilities. So, no horse for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">A few years later we moved to North Carolina at the
request of a family member. A couple of
months later Ed and I were in a devastating car accident. An eighteen wheeler lost control coming down
a mountain and its trailer, contents and the concrete barrier plummeted us. We were both badly hurt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The recovery process from the accident was long,
painful and hard. We will never be the
same as we were just one second before the accident. I had played it safe, not got my horse then
was injured by someone else. Such is
life. Many times since then I have said
to myself: I could have had my horse. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I figured that if I had gotten hurt on my horse then
at least it would have been doing something I really wanted to do. I have few regrets, but I regretted not
having had a horse when I could have had one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Fast forward to now … earlier this summer a neighbor
from down the road who has horses said that he would sell me this amazing
Tennessee Walking Horse, keep him on his farm and teach me to ride and to take
care of him. As I said, I decided to not
take the horse. Dumb. Real dumb. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Today, I found out he still had this horse and was
willing to go with the same deal. My
amazing husband was still willing to put up with my wishy-washy ways. He just smiled and said, “Buy the damn horse.” I did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Wish me luck.
I have a lot to learn. So
much. But, I feel like a million bucks. I threw caution to the wind. I will, however, still be very careful while
riding Silver Dollar. He does have one
additional name though, and that is Dream.
Yes, he is my Silver Dollar Dream.
He is a dream come true for me, and may I wish that your dreams will come
true for you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee, August 29<sup>th</sup>, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-35838503639937197622014-08-25T09:41:00.000-04:002014-08-25T09:41:04.504-04:00What the Dead Said<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I had a terrible week last week, so I was going to
write a piece about pet peeves. Then
things went from bad to worse and I decided that I would vent about something
even bigger than a pet peeve. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I am at the age now where many people I loved, and
who loved me, are gone. By gone I mean
dead. For some strange reason I have the
capability to sit with folks who are dying.
I can sit for long periods and listen to them as they talk saying what
is on their minds. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They may decide to tell stories about their lives or
talk about things that they liked or didn’t.
The filters are removed. Deep
secrets are revealed, because what do they have to lose by speaking the truth
as to what their feelings or thoughts are? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Not many of my family or friends are able sit those
hours. They ask me how I can do it and I
reply that I am glad to do it. What they
don’t know, although I have tried explaining this to them, is that I have
learned so much about many aspects of life and the interior thinking processes
of people on their way out. It has
provided a selfish motive for me as well as an altruistic one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After the person dies things change so much. People who had their turns “sitting” with the
dying person found every excuse, while they were in that setting, to go
anywhere except sitting in the chair next to the person with whom they were
supposed to be sitting beside. They may
spend the hours at the place, but not with the person. They, therefore, do not get to hear the
stories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Then, as time passes, they tell what the dead
said. Now, naturally, as you can imagine
since they did not hear what the dead said they make it up to suit whatever
they are wanting to do telling all those around them that this was what
so-and-so said or wanted. For most
listeners this is not a problem, because they were not there and so they do not
know that the person who was supposed to be there wasn’t—in reality either. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When they say to me, however, what the dead said and
I actually heard from the persons own lips, usually at least several times, what
they actually said I really get angry.
It also hurts me that they would attribute to the person who no longer
has a voice what they want not what I know the person wanted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe they believe that they are telling the truth
or maybe they know that they are lying.
I don’t know, but I wish that whenever someone says what the dead said
and it is wrong that the dead person could just pop right up beside them and
say, “No, I did not say that. I said
this ____.” Wouldn’t that be the coolest
thing? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee August 25<sup>th</sup>, 2014 <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5832710489331790143.post-81896387188797834292014-08-23T08:33:00.000-04:002014-08-23T08:33:20.067-04:00The Conclusion: Part 6<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">From the short mystery series <i>Body in Cold Rock Creek <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ephram Clout, Junior insisted that he continue
telling his story only to the Sheriff and Naomi once he was in the
interrogation room at the Sheriff’s office.
Sheriff Matt Stephens read him his rights again this time recording everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mr. Clout still refused an attorney. He wrote out his confession stopping occasionally
to take a few minutes break to drink a soda that the sheriff brought him. He told the Sheriff and Naomi that he was a
third year student at the University majoring in Sociology. He said that he had the best grades in his
class. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When he handed them his written confession both were
speechless when they saw it was written in perfect English and that his
penmanship was easy to read. Naomi
couldn’t help but say, “Junior, you don’t write at all like you talk. Why’s that?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He answered, “Why Ma’am, I can talk like everybody
else. I just choose to talk like my
people. I am proud of my heritage.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">He continued talking becoming much more sober. He looked around seeming to be fully aware of
where he was and his circumstances. “You
know, I was even one of the people they interviewed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Both Matt and Naomi knew that he was. Just as he was being interviewed for TTN early
during the media frenzy a photographer had snapped a picture as a single tear
rolled down Ephram Clout, Junior’s cheek.
The picture was picked up by nearly every paper in the world and it went
viral. It was dubbed “The Single Tear.” The photograph and photographer was up for a
Pulitizer Prize. The Sheriff could only
imagine that now this young man would be dubbed the “Single Tear Killer,” and
he was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Many of the media folk came back once they found out
the killer had been caught, but they were furious, because Junior Clout refused
to go to trial. They wanted the matter
to go on and on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Judge required Junior to stand up in the packed
Cold Lake County Courthouse and read his entire confession. He had agreed to serve fifteen years as part
of a plea bargained agreement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The crowd booed when they heard that. The Judge slammed his gavel down demanding
order in the court. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Prosecutor stood up, bucking to the crowd, and
despite his earlier agreement with Mr. Clout he asked for a twenty year
sentence. The crowd cheered. Naomi looked around the courtroom during both
of the outbursts and it seemed that the locals were satisfied with Junior’s
plea, but the outsiders wanted more. The
media had even suggested the death penalty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Judge said that he was ready to rule and the
crowd cheered. He did a preliminary
statement about how sad the entire course of events were. Then, he said, “The court is satisfied that Mr.
Waycastle agreed to play the game. It
was appropriately named ‘The Dumb Ass Rock Throwing Duel.’ Therefore, the court finds that Gilbert Mac
Waycastle was partly to blame for his own death.” Many in the crowd jeered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Judge continued, seeming to pay no attention to
the audience. He motioned for the Defendant
to rise. Junior rose tears streaming
down his face. He wiped his nose and
looked like a little boy in his new suit.
He glanced once back towards the audience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Judge said, “This court finds Ephram Clout,
Junior guilty of the unintentional murder of Gilbert Mac Waycastle. He is to serve a period of not more than four
and one half years in a facility the State of Tennessee chooses. The crowd erupted. It took all of the law enforcement officers in
the courtroom to prevent total chaos, but they finally managed to clear the
room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The young man went off to serve his time. The talk shows had fodder that lasted for
days. The Judge received both death
threats and letters congratulating him on his courage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Matt Stephens decided that despite all the job
offers that he’d stay in Cold Lake County.
He, Naomi and Edgar decided to keep Ephram Clout, Junior’s place up and to
pay the taxes on his farm. “I just want
the young man to have a place to come back to after all this is over. With good behavior and shortened sentences he
could be out in a couple of years maybe sooner.
He didn’t mean to do it. He isn’t
a bad kid.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Both Naomi and Edgar nodded in agreement while
sipping coffee and rocking on their porch.
“That’s so,” Edgar said snuffing out his cigarette. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“What are you going to do now, Naomi?” Matt Stephens
asked. “You know we wouldn’t have solved
this case without you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Thank you, Matt.
I must say. I’ve been thinking
about some of those deaths I investigated in Florida and I am just not
satisfied that we got to the bottom of them.
I may do some asking around. May
I call on you for advice? I know that I
will get stumped.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Sheriff answered, “You know you can. Maybe you will even let me be your co-nvestigator. If you aren’t satisfied then there probably
was more to those stories. Just give me
a call and we’ll get started.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
End <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">©Patty F.
Cooper, Elizabethton, Tennessee August 23, 2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All Rights Reserved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
patty cooperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16280272298201671783noreply@blogger.com0