A Year of Memories, Monday Memories, Reflections
I was known as a shooter during my senior year of basketball. When I had a slight opening, I drove to the basket. When I didn’t have an opening, I worked hard to create one. But it wasn’t always that way. I’ll never forget that night on the court when shooting the...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
Most would-be authors dream of acquiring riches, but who’d believe that a ninety-three-year-old woman’s memoir would bring income to dozens of people? My mother, Laura Annette Fitzsimons-Thorpe, had written poetry throughout her life, but when I suggested she should...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
I’d never gone carp spearing, but my friends who had, explained exactly how to do it. I must have been too excited to listen closely. I did some of it right, but I missed their most important information—and that got me into serious trouble. After my goldfish fiasco,...
A Year of Memories, Life lessons, Monday Memories
My wife tossed in her bed; she groaned and cried in pain. She begged for me to get her doctor to come see her. I tried, but her doctor was away, and the other doctors at his clinic refused to do house calls. I pleaded for them to come. They told me to take her to the...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories, Real life characters
Cousin Wayne Paull faced more challenges than most people during his ninety years on this earth, but he never let life’s difficulties beat him down. He “rolled with the punches” and responded with a smile on his face. If you approached him feeling “out of sorts,” it...
A Year of Memories, Monday Memories
I’d read all the Tarzan stories, but I didn’t have a forest with trees to climb and vines to swing on—not until I visited my Aunt Anne and Uncle Earl’s farm near Ridgeway. They had a forest, and they let me play in it, too. My best friend, Denny Doyle, and I found...
