

Stories from a Small Town

Revised Edition 2020

Copyrighted by Charles E. White and Published by Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

ISBN No. 9781310919497

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The stories featured are based on real people who resided in a small southern town in the fifties. The names of the characters in the stories are fictional ones.

ETHEL

Two more hours before my favorite shows Love of Life and Search for Tomorrow come on my TV. My oscillating fan stopped working this morning and I'm already soaking wet. The last time Bobby was home I told him the dam oscillating fan was in need of repair, but he just smiled as he ate another hot meal I had prepared. Heat didn't seem to bother him as much as it did me as he made his living working outside. Preparing a hot meal in July makes no sense unless that's what your man expects and Bobby expects hot food from a hot kitchen every dam day. I suppose I should wash a load of clothes and get them on the line before it gets much hotter. I noticed in the News and Observer they were calling for thunderstorms sometime this afternoon so if I'm going to do the wash I should get to it. I wish I had one of the new washing machines like my neighbor across the street, but Bobby thinks the old wringer one he got from his mother's house when she passed away three years ago is just fine. Hell, how would he know, he's never washed a load of clothes in his life. He wouldn't stoop to wash a load if his life depended on it. The last time he was home I had hoped we would apply a new coat of paint to our rather dull, drab bedroom walls, but instead we sat in front of the TV while he watched the game and consumed mass quantities of Schlitz beer. I know several women who have jobs around town and when I go to the places where they work they seem happy and contented and possess an independence I'm not familiar with. It must be nice to have a place to go every day, get up early and get all dressed up, see new people, get to smile and say "hello," I wonder what that would feel like. Most of the teachers over at the schoolhouse are women, but the majority of them are not married. I wonder why they aren't married, maybe there's something wrong with them. I know several of them live together over at Mrs. Edgemont's Rooming House on Division Street, but I guess they save on rent that way and besides they have each other to talk to when they get home from school. I wonder what I can pull together to make for dinner tonight. I don't have much food in the house and Bobby didn't leave me much money before he headed out for the west coast. He told me he would send me some money once he's back on the road. I guess I could call around and offer to do some sewing for a few women I know if I get tight for money, but I don't really like sewing all that much. I can sew most things, dress, blouses, my mama taught me this skill when I was a young girl and I started out making clothes for my dolls until I was in high school and I made some of the clothes I wore to school, but sewing I never really liked it all that much. I wished I knew what in the hell I liked to do, but I know it's not washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, or sewing or screwing in that order. Bobby doesn't much care for sex either or I guess he doesn't since he seldom wants me, but I just try to be ready whenever he is home, but I think mostly the ball he likes comes from the TV. Right now I wonder if I could find someone around town who could take a look at this broken fan because if it stays this hot I'm going to roast. Maybe I'll call that colored man, Uncle Alvin, who does odd jobs for people and see if he could do it, but maybe I shouldn't, it might not look good to have a colored man over to the house while Bobby is away. Maybe I could call him and ask him if he can he fix it and if he can I'll leave it on the front porch. He probably wouldn't be able to it today anyway so I might as well just wait until tomorrow, shit, if it comes up a cloud and rains I might not need the dam thing for a day or two. I guess I could just go to Ray's Hardware and buy me a new one, but Bobby would be furious if I spent money for such a thing.

My husband Bobby is an umpire in the Pacific Coast League. When he made it to the minors I begged him to look into the Class B Carolina League, that way he'd be home more often, what with the teams based in Carolina, but the Triple A Pacific Coast League offered more money and a greater chance to make it to the majors so next thing I know he's packing our only suitcase and heading to California. I'm proud of him, but I miss him sometimes, maybe I just miss having a man around, hell, I don't know. When he comes home after the season he still needs to work to make ends meet but is always able to pick up odd jobs because everyone here knows him because of his celebrity status. It's a big deal in this town to be able to say Bobby Harrison is working for you. During his younger years he played baseball on several local semi-pro baseball teams and when he reached the age of thirty-five he did a brief stint as a manager. He loves the game of baseball and was enough of a visionary to see that umpiring could be a way to stay connected with the game a bit longer and he has become one of the best in the PCL, at least that what he tells me. While he's living his dream I'm at home looking out the window when I'm not watching Love of Life.

Only one hour to go now before Love of Life airs. This show is a great way for me to get lost in something other than my boring day to day existence. Vanessa is my favorite character on the show and I find I can identify with her in most episodes. I like Search for Tomorrow too, but I wish it lasted longer than fifteen minutes. At least Bobby was nice enough to buy us a TV a couple of years ago. He likes to watch ball when he's at home, but he doesn't he like to watch much else. Sometimes I mention a show we might watch together, but he usually says no and since it's his house and his TV we watch ball. I wish I felt like something was mine, but everything is his.

I need something else to do, but what? A sock factory of all things will be open sometime this year and maybe I will apply for a job there, even though Bobby has told me repeatedly he didn't want any wife of his to work outside the home. Well, screw him! I just might decide to get a job there anyway, besides what's he going to do about it if I do go to work there? I love Bobby; at least I think I do. Shit! Love! What is love? He asked me out five times and the sixth time he took me out he asked me to marry him, that is after he pulled my panties down and did what men like to do. Lucky for me and for him too, I didn't get knocked up. I know three girls who got knocked up when I was in high school because they didn't know better and they had to leave town, never graduated from high school as far as I know, they weren't my friends anyway. I guess the best not to get in trouble is to stay at home and not go out with a man, any man, because really, that's mostly all they want to do, get you in the bushes somewhere you don't know where and turn the lights off. What can you do then? He's got the key, the lights are off, and you have no clue where you are. If you do it once you realize it never takes more than three or four minutes for them to do whatever it is they do then you can go somewhere like the show or a dance or the grill, you know, some fun places, not the bushes. Bobby, I guess, is like all the rest of the men, but at least men know what they want and they just go out and get it, usually or at least they tell each other they do. There's this man over at Daye's Grocery up on Main who always looking at me in a lusty way. With his big, bulging eyes he checks me out from head to toe, but most of his focus seems to be on my crotch. Sometimes I think if the opportunity presented itself he would like to take me to the bushes. I think he's married, but I still bet he'd like to do me. I noticed he's got really big hands, which comes in handy around the store. Anyway, he is a good meat cutter and his vegetables are always fresh, I just wish he wouldn't look at me the way he does.

OK, I must get the clothes started as I only have twenty minutes before my show. Why does Bobby have all of these things thrown in the clothes basket, they certainly don't look dirty and most aren't even wrinkled. I think he just throws them in there so I will have something to do, guess he assumes I mostly sit on my ass 'til he returns. Well, I'll wash his things anyway. I don't have enough washing powder and I'm certainly not going down to Daye's to get any now. I will make do with what I have, which is about a third of a cup, what the hell; Bobby's shit ain't all that dirty. Clothes in, washer on, now to my TV programs. I think I'll wait 'til my two shows are over before hanging those clothes out on the line. Wish I had a better clothesline, the contraption Bobby rigged up starts sagging in the middle as soon as I begin hanging my clothes and by the time I finish the clothes are just a few inches off the ground, then a wind comes and next thing I know they're down on the ground. TV on, but today, for some reason the picture is fuzzy, wish we had an antenna on top of the house like most of the people on our street have, but Bobby is just too dam cheap to have one installed. If I had a job I'd pay to have one installed, what's the point of having a TV if the dam picture is so fuzzy you can't see anything? I hate these rabbit ears, but they came with the TV, free of course and Bobby always likes a deal, the son of a bitch! My shows are over, not much happened to today on either show, but that's usually the case. I must get those wet clothes out of the washer and hang them on the line. Dam! It's cloudy outside; don't tell me it's going to rain before I get these clothes dry! I've had all day to do this and now it's going to rain, no wonder Bobby thinks I spend most of my days doing nothing, can't even do this little job. I've got to try anyway, maybe the rain will hold off. Let's see, where did I put my box of clothespins? I thought I put them over by the washer but they are not here. Shit! Where are they? Is it raining? Son of a bitch! It's started! Now, the clothes are all damp and soggy and who knows when I'll get them on the line now. What am I going to do now? I'm tired of watching TV and it's too early to prepare dinner for just me, so what now?  
I wonder who's on the phone. Guess I should answer as it might just be my loving husband. Hello, who is this? Oh, hi Nell, no, not doing much, just finishing up a load of wash, now it's raining and I can't get them on the line. Why yes, I can to go to the library with you, I have two books to return anyway and need to find something new to read. OK, I'll see you in an hour and thanks for calling. I'm glad Nell called; at least I'll be around another human being today even if it's her. Days where I see no one are extremely long and hard days. I need to find me a good romance novel or two; I need something titillating to read. Let's see, where did I put those library books, hope they aren't overdue. Here they are and shit, they are overdue! I can't believe this happened, I mean, no more than I have to do I should at least be able to keep up with the due dates on a couple of library books.

I hope Nell doesn't honk the horn when she drives up, what do my neighbors think when she does that? I like Nell, but at times she is a little uncouth, but she is fun to be with, that is, until she has a few, then she often gets loud and obnoxious. It's scary sometimes when she's over here and I can't get her out of my house. Sometimes I worry the neighbors might call the law and Bobby would NOT like that at all. Today I'm not even going to mention her coming in for a drink when we return from the library, but if she asks me, oh well, what the hell, what else am I going to do this afternoon?

Oops, there she is, honking away, let's see, where's my purse? Hi Nell, how have you been? "I've never been better," replied Nell, "Sydney informed me last night when he got in from work he was getting a raise which is the first time in about five years and with that additional money we plan to buy a new car. We've been thinking about one for some time now, maybe the new Plymouth Fury which has really great styling what with the big tail fins. My sister called last night and this guy she has been dating for two years now, like he's some kind of doctor, don't know the name but he looks at women's privates and tells them what going on, that kind of doctor, anyway they are going to get married in November. What's new and exciting with you Ethel?"

"Exciting, well, I washed a load of clothes this morning, but it started to rain before I had a chance to get them on the line so they're sitting in a basket on the floor. I watched my two shows, Love of Life and Search for Tomorrow, nothing much was going on in either episode. Actually I'm bored silly; I tired of sitting at home alone while Bobby is on the road umpiring on the west coast. I think I would like to have a job somewhere, but what could I do, all I have is some typing skills from courses taken in high school along with a course in elementary accounting, so where could I get on with those minimal skills?"

"You might try Smithwick and Smithwick Attorneys at Law over on Fourth Street; I understand from Faye Rideout they are looking to hire someone. If I were you I'd call over there or better yet get all dolled up and go over in person and try to impress. Show them some thigh if you need to get hired on, I mean you got to flaunt what you have," explained Nell.

"Well, I think I would like to work, but I'm not sure if I would show them "anything" to get a job," Ethel responded.

"Maybe you don't really want to work, said Nell, hell, I'll bet almost every woman in this town who's working had to 'do more' than just complete an application and an interview to get a job. Shit, men got the power and they don't have to offer you anything unless they get something in return, quid pro quo I think it's called."

" I hope they have that Lolita book on the shelves, I've heard it's pretty risqué, maybe too risqué for our public library, I'm too embarrassed to ask the librarian about it, but hell, if they have it I'll have to go through her to check it out so she'll certainly know then," said Nell.

"Don't you read anything but smut? I've heard that book is about this old guy who messes around with a young girl and if that is indeed what it is about I certainly don't want to read it, unless you read it first and tell me it's okay," explained Ethel.

"Sure I can do that," said Nell, "it's a book and if it's available for the public to read then it must be acceptable. Well, here we are Ethel and as usual I can park anywhere because when we come there are very few other folks here."

I'm really getting tired of going to the library with Nell, most weeks I don't read very much from the books I check out and often times when the book is due I haven't read it all. She's a voracious reader and reads probably two or three books a week, so yes, she needs to go, but not me, but I guess it is somewhere to go every week, after all who else do I have anything to do with 'til Bobby gets home. I've got choir practice on Wednesdays over the First Baptist so at least I'll see some folks there, but most of them I don't really like. There's Shirley Curtis, the banker's wife, hell, she, well, the both of them just can't do enough at that church. I wonder how much money they give every year. I'll bet they pledge a dam fortune. Every time they need volunteers to do something around there one of their hands goes up, just can't do enough, if that's what I have to do to get into Heaven then to hell with it. I don't understand anything the preacher says on Sundays, all completely over by head, but I try to listen. I even read the Bible, but I don't get anything out of it either. One page God loves everybody and the next page he's killing all of them, why would you love someone then kill them, beats me. Anyway, I go most of the time because by Sunday it's nice to get out somewhere even if it's church. Maybe someday I can get someone to explain this religion stuff so I can understand it. Why did God have his son killed, preacher says "to save me," what is that about, I haven't done anything!

Nell has been up and down every dam aisle in this library at least five times and I don't see one book in her hand. I've looked around and I don't see anything that interests me. I turned in my overdue book and paid the ten cent fine, but no need to get anything unless something really strikes my fancy and nothing does. Hurry up Nell! I wonder what that librarian makes per week. I imagine she's got some kind of library type training but I'm not sure how all that works. Maybe she needs a helper, I might like shelving books, can't be too hard, I mean all you have to do is pick up the returns off of a cart and place them on the proper shelf. Suppose someone asks me for a suggestion, oh hell, I could never do that, oh well; maybe this place is not for me. Okay, looks like she finally has some books in her hand, maybe this is it. Oops, no, she just put all of them back to the shelves and is headed back down the rows again. I need to leave, but what can I do 'til the woman finds a book.

"Ethel! Where are you, I'm ready to leave, I can't find anything," yelled Nell who got a reprimand from the librarian reminding her to be quiet as she was in a library. Ethel met her at the entrance and they departed without checking out any books.

When they arrived at Ethel's house she invited Nell in as always for a drink or two or three or however many she requested. Ethel knew the deal, Nell starts in with one, says she's really in a hurry for she has to get home and cook for Sydney and then next thing she settled in for several hours and usually calls Sydney and asks him to go by Vince's Burgers and get some burgers for dinner. Why should Ethel step in and try to alter this routine? Nell preferred rum and Coke, why Ethel would never know, for the concoction was simply too sweet, but she tried to be accommodating to her friend and she had the rum and she had the Cokes to mix up this most disgusting drink. Ethel preferred a lime daiquiri. She liked fresh limes when available, but as her backup she had the bottled lime juice. So here they were, mid afternoon in the heat of summer, one woman's man was somewhere out west umpiring or getting ready to umpire some dam baseball game while the other woman's man was selling some hardware. This was their world and they tried to make the best of it.

By five o'clock Nell was on her fourth rum and Coke and Ethel was finishing her second daiquiri which was usually her limit except on special occasions, but this was not one of them. Nell made the call to Syd to tell him to pick up dinner and afterward sucked down what Ethel hoped would by her last before left for home. Nell finished the drink and told Ethel maybe they could take in a matinee next week. Ethel told her to give her a call maybe over the weekend to finalize things, but she didn't see a problem with taking in a movie, but the real truth was she was getting tired of running around with Nell as much as she was. Nell left shortly after five and after Ethel finished her drink she sat for awhile trying to decide what to do next. No need to cook as she had plenty of leftovers from the previous night, it was too late to hang out the still wet clothes from the morning wash, her shows came on earlier in the day, and she didn't much want to read anything, especially since she failed to check out a book while she was at the library. She still needed something to do for several more hours before she turned in, which was normally around ten o'clock. Maybe she'd just go for a short drive somewhere, maybe downtown or better out in the country, yes, out in the country where it should be a tad cooler. She gathered her keys from the bedroom and went outside to the '51 Ford Custom Bobby purchased from a local used car lot. She got in and cranked the Ford and backed out of the gravel driveway onto Sycamore Street and headed west. Within a few minutes she was driving down some back roads with her windows open to allow some hot, humid July air inside the car while she listened to the last few minutes of a local A.M. radio station scheduled to sign off at six. She drove in anticipation of finding shady parts of the highway which would allow a brief moment or two of cooler air. She thought about the fan at home and wished it was working and decided she must call Uncle Alvin in the morning and see if he could repair it. So what if it cost money to be repaired, Bobby could just pitch a fit if he wanted to, she bet his ass was comfortable and soon she would be too. She stopped at an Esso station to get some gas and while the attendant was fueling the Ford she went in and bought a pack of square nabs and a Coke to tide her over until she returned home. She paid the clerk for the snacks and gas and pulled back out onto the country road she wondered when Bobby would find the time to call her. Was he so busy calling balls and strikes to call or was his extra time spent on perhaps another woman. Ethel knew such a thing was possible, it was always possible that a man would meet another woman and become infatuated with her especially if he could take her down. How could she truly know what Bobby was doing, maybe he was nowhere near a baseball stadium. He had never invited her to visit out west during the season so she just had to believe he was umpiring baseball games. One thing for sure she knew she was lonely and she felt vulnerable and if any nice looking man gave her the time of day she wasn't sure what direction it would take. Would acquiring a job help things or might it make things worse? Ethel asked herself many questions during her spin out in the country, but she had few, if any answers. By eight o'clock she pulled back into the driveway on Sycamore Street, put the Ford in park and turned off the ignition. She went inside and while turning the lights on in the hallway she heard the phone ring. She reached for the phone and after her "hello," she heard Nell's voice and thought, "Oh God, not again, I've really had enough of her today." Nell confirmed that Smithwick and Smithwick Attorneys at Law did have a receptionist position open. She wasn't sure what the duties would be, but assumed it was like other such positions, answer the phone, smile at people when they come in, type, file, take dictation, plus "other duties as assigned." Nell pressed Ethel for a commitment that she would at least find out more about this position. Why not go for it, no guarantees, but at least the experience of applying for a job and maybe getting an interview would at help her decide if in fact, she even wanted to work. Ethel thanked her for the information and told Nell she would sleep on it and try to decide what she wanted to do in the morning. Nell pressed her to call back sometime the next day and tell her what she decided, but Ethel would not agree. The two women said "goodnight" to each other simultaneously and hung up their black rotary phones. Ethel walked into the living room and switched on another light before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she stood over the sink drawing the water into a glass she thought about the receptionist job at Smithwick and Smithwick and was pleased that Nell was thoughtful enough to check into the position for her so as a minimum she should at least apply, she owed Nell that much. As she drained the glass and set it back on the sink she told herself she would do it, she would drop by the law office the first thing in the morning and apply for the position. She settled down on the sofa for an hour or so of TV before bed. It was almost eight thirty now and since Bobby was on Pacific Coast Time perhaps she'd get a call before she retired for the evening.

Not much on TV, but westerns, westerns, and more westerns so Ethel turned off the set and sat on her sofa thinking about how she might react to questions she could be asked if she got an interview. She hadn't typed in years and had no idea what her typing WPM (words per minute) would be now. Dictation, a skill learned in a high school shorthand class was also a skill not practiced since leaving school. She knew she could be pleasant on the phone and when people came to the office, at least she had those necessary social skills. The Schlitz Beer clock over the TV indicated ten o'clock, had she been sitting and thinking for that long or had she dozed off but unaware that she had? As she got up and moved to her bedroom for another night of sleeping alone she realized Bobby had not called and as she turned down the bed coverings she wondered what he might be doing. For sure she wasn't the only woman in town going to bed alone, but most of the ones she knew were single, sometimes widows. She closed her eyes and within fifteen minutes Ethel was fast asleep dreaming about working.

The sound of rain on the tin roof woke Ethel up earlier than she planned to get up, but rather than lay in bed trying to get back to sleep she got up and took a bath. After her bath she washed her hair, and then did her nails as she wanted to look as nice as she could just in case she got an interview. She made a pot of Gill's Hotel Special coffee and scrambled two eggs and made two pieces of toast in the oven. She sat at her small kitchen table eating her breakfast while watching the birds eating their morning meal at one of her four feeders. She liked birds and tried hard to keep the feeders filled. She loved the early morning sounds and sights of the variety of birds attracted to the feeders. After she finished breakfast she went to retrieve the Raleigh News and Observer, but discovered it had not been delivered yet as usual. She went back to the bedroom to get dressed. She selected a Sunday go to meeting white blouse and a dark brown knee length skirt. She put on her girdle then sat on the bed while she pulled up her nylon stockings, checking to be sure she didn't have a run in the pair. She put on her newest brown high heels and checked herself out in the mirror and she was satisfied with what she saw. After she was dressed she went into the living room and turned on the TV to get the morning news since the morning paper still had not been delivered. As she looked up at the clock she noticed it was approaching eight o'clock so she decided she would wait a while longer before driving to the law office. At about nine fifteen she turned off the TV, got her purse and keys and walked out to the car. The cloth seats in the Ford felt damp when she sat down and started the engine and as she turned facing the driver's side door she realized she had left the window half open. The law office was on the other side of town and it would take about fifteen minutes to drive there. The morning traffic was light as it should be in this small town. By nine thirty Ethel pulled up in front of the office and parallel parked. She walked inside and approached a jolly lady at the front desk who appeared to be a bit older than Ethel. The lady smiled and spoke first and asked Ethel if she could help her. Ethel told her she was there to apply for the receptionist job which was awkward because the lady was the receptionist. The lady told her she was retiring as soon as the firm could hire her replacement. The lady handed Ethel a one page application and a pen and directed her to a table in the corner on which she could complete the application. As Ethel was completing the application she was unsure what to enter for her typing WPM so she asked the lady what she should put since she hadn't had a timed typing test since high school. The lady told her not to worry just put down her best estimate and if she got an interview she would give her a timed typing test. Ethel wrote down 45 WPM because the most she was ever timed getting in high school was 55 WPM. When she completed the application she went over and handed it to the lady and sat down on a couch and thumbed through a few magazines. The lady left her desk and headed down the hall. Ten minutes later she returned and told Ethel if she could wait until Jeffrey Smithwick finished with his current client he see her then, if not, she could make an appointment and return another day. Ethel told her she could definitely wait because she was very interested in the job. Ethel looked at the pictures in every magazine while she waited for the interview. After what seemed close to an hour two men came down the hall. Ethel assumed one of them was Smithwick and the other the client and as soon as one of them left she would know which one was Smithwick. The men smiled and shook hands and the older, shorter man opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. The other man made eye contact with Ethel and walked over and introduced himself as Jeffrey Smithwick. He gestured for her to follow him down the hall to his office. Once inside he offered her a chair to the left side of his desk. Ethel sat down crossed her legs and grabbed the arms of the chair with her hands to rest her arms and waited for the interview to begin. Smithwick seated himself and asked her to give him a second while he looked over her application. Ethel looked out a small window just to the left of the man's chair, but didn't find much to look at; there were a few pine trees in the distance on what appeared to be a large lot with grass in need of being cut. Smithwick looked up, smiled, turned his chair to better face Ethel one on one and put the application on a legal pad in his lap.

"Ethel, I'm looking at the space on the application for your work experience and it's blank, did you not see this or do you not have any experience working anywhere," quizzed Smithwick.

"Sir, I have never worked outside the home. I was married just out of high school and I have been a homemaker while my husband worked and he's provided me with what I need," responded Ethel.

"What skills can you bring to this job that I can verify since there's no former employee who can attest to your work competencies," asked Smithwick.

"As I said, no work outside the home, but I suppose you could ask my best friend what kind of person I am and you could ask our church choir director if I show up regularly for choir practice and to the church services on Sunday, yes, you could talk to them, you could talk to my husband, but he's working out of town," Ethel responded.

"What kind of work does your husband do," enquired Smithwick.

"He's an umpire in the Pacific Coast League, he travels all over several western states, I can't tell you which ones," responded Ethel.

"Well, since this job has been open I have interviewed five other women and you are the first one who has no related work experience whatsoever, so I'm at a loss here to understand what services you think you can provide when you haven't done anything," explained Smithwick.

"I was a good student in high school and I made good grades, mostly A's and a few B's and I can type and do shorthand, but I haven't done either since high school so I would need to brush up on those skills, but I know I can do them and I'm a pleasant person and I am nice to people, all people," Ethel responded.

Smithwick asked, "What do you mean by "all people?"

"You know, the coloreds, the old people, the young people, the poor people, all people," was Ethel's reply.

"Yes, well good, because in the this office we get all the people because black or white, young or old people at some point in their lives have need of a lawyer and I am here to serve all and I do mean all," responded Smithwick.

"I have no issues or bad feelings about anyone even though I was raised by parents who saw "them," as different," Ethel responded.

"By them, you mean the Negroes?" asked the lawyer.

"Yes, them," replied Ethel.

"Since your husband is on the other side of the country might there come a time where he has you moving out West," asked Smithwick.

"I doubt he'll ever do that since once the season is over he likes to come back here and pick up some odd jobs. He sees such temporary jobs as recreation after a long, hard season of umpiring games every day and coupled with all the traveling he told me he might be umpiring maybe five more years at most, if he's lucky," responded Ethel.

"Ethel," said Smithwick, "I'm going to have Janice, the lady you met out front, my receptionist, come in and give you a timed typing test. This job involves a lot of typing and many times I need documents prepared very quickly, so if you do well with the test it will go a long way in helping me determine if I can offer you the position. I will also have her administer a brief dictation exercise."

Smithwick went to the door and summoned Janice to his office, and then left while she prepared Ethel for the tests. Before starting the timed typing test she gave Ethel a few minutes to practice since she hadn't touched a typewriter in years. After some brief practice Ethel signaled to Janice she was ready. The typing test would be timed for five minutes with penalties for each misspelled word. Janice turned the time clock to the top of the dial while Ethel inserted a fresh piece of paper. Janice motioned for Ethel to begin typing. Five minutes later Janice motioned for Ethel to stop. Ethel gave Janice her paper and Janice next administered a shorthand test. After checking the papers Janice left the room to report the results to Smithwick who was in the lobby having a cup of coffee.

When Smithwick returned to his office he told Ethel her test scores were excellent, in fact higher than the previous five candidates. Ethel was surprised she had done so well. Smithwick explained in detail the duties and responsibilities of the job. Ethel listened intently and occasionally asked a question. When Smithwick finished he asked Ethel if she had further questions and she asked when he would make his decision and Smithwick said his decision had been made, he was offering her the job. Ethel was excited and couldn't wait to get home to call Nell and hoped Bobby would call soon so she could tell him her good news. Smithwick told her she could start in two weeks because Janice wanted to leave two weeks after he identified her replacement. Ethel was so happy she felt like jumping up and hugging Jeffery Smithwick, but she didn't want to end the interview with a bad impression.

She returned home and after changing her clothes she called Nell to share her good fortune. Nell's phone rang and rang, but there was no answer so Ethel elected to try later. She made some iced tea and sat down to read the morning News and Observer. While she scanned the headlines she thought about Bobby and wondered where he was and what he was doing and looked forward to telling him about her new job. Now she would have something to look forward to each morning rather than four walls and a TV screen. She would get to meet new people and be part of a professional firm that meets the legal needs of the local population. She knew Bobby would be pleased, well, she hoped he would, but she remembered all too well his position on her working, this time though certainly he would approve. He should be impressed his stay at home wife went out and got a job. If he would just call she could break the news. In two weeks she would be working! She thought about her wardrobe, did she have enough outfits to be able to wear something different each day? She realized she might have to spend some of her early paychecks on new clothes, but she didn't have anything else to spend her money on so why not just buy every dam thing she wanted, didn't have to wait for any man, any husband, to give her a few dollars, she would have her own money, what independence! Time for her shows, she would watch the shows then try to call Nell again. Maybe she should invite Nell over for a celebratory dinner and a few drinks, yes, she would do that.

Ethel was finally able to reach Nell shortly after three and Nell was elated with news of the job. Ethel asked Nell to come over as soon as she could and they could start the party early and maybe Nell could help her prepare their dinner. Nell told her she would get cleaned up, dress, and be right over. Ethel was excited about having someone, even if it was crazy Nell, to share her news.

Nell arrived just after four with a pint of cheap rum, a six pack of Cokes, and three limes. When Ethel opened the door Nell gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. They went to the kitchen to put down the bag of goodies Nell had purchased and went into the living room to discuss the details of the interview. Ethel told her about the testing and about the questions Jeffery Smithwick asked.

"Did Smithwick ask you the color of your underpants," asked Nell.

"Actually, no, we didn't discuss any dress codes and he looked into my eyes the whole time and not once was I made to feel uncomfortable, he was a true gentleman the whole time," replied Ethel.

"Well, I checked around and I heard he was a ladies' man and if a woman wasn't careful he'd consume them like an octopus, that's what I heard," responded Nell.

"Nell, where do you get this shit," asked Ethel, "I've lived in this town as long as you have and I never hear all the gossip that you hear, yet we know the same people, sometimes I just think you make this shit up."

"I don't make it up, it comes directly from the mouths of females around here, so don't worry this is accurate information I'm sharing," said Nell.

"Oh forget it, I'm going to work there and I can take care of myself, let's mix a drink," said Ethel.

After the drinks were mixed the women returned to the living room to continue their conversation. After several more drinks they decided to go into the kitchen and decide what to prepare for dinner. The cabinets were mostly empty and the refrigerator contained leftovers that even two people with serious buzzes wouldn't be drunk enough to heat up, so Ethel decided all of it should be tossed into the garbage can. They decided to drive down to Daisy's Diner and have a cheap meal there. When they got to Daisy's the place was practically empty. They found a corner booth and reviewed the menu while the waitress brought silverware and glasses of water to the table. They both ordered hamburger steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes, quite a meal to celebrate the new job. After dinner Nell drove Ethel back to her house and then drove home. Ethel went inside and sat down on her living room sofa to reflect on a full day. She was tired, but pleased with where she was. In a few minutes she dozed off only to be awakened by the sound of the phone ringing. She walked over and picked up the receiver and it was Bobby. She was happy to hear his voice, but she couldn't get a word in edgewise until he told her about every dam game he had umpired since the last time he called. Finally, Bobby stopped long enough to inhale and Ethel was able to share her news.

"Bobby, I have a job as a receptionist at Smithwick and Smithwick Attorneys at Law on Fourth Street, "said Ethel.

"You got what, a job?" Asked Bobby. "How many times, I mean how many times have I told you no job, I want you in that house. You have everything you need and if you don't its news to me. You call down there first thing in the morning and tell whoever you talked to you had second thoughts and decided not to accept the job! I can't believe this, I'm out here busting my ass every day getting hit by balls, cursed at, dirt kicked up at me and now I have to hear this shit, my wife, who I provide for, has got a job. What is wrong with you, you don't have time for that crap, you have plenty to do at the house."

On Ethel's end there was silence as she didn't know what to say, she expected this would be his response. She decided to say no more and listened to him rant and rave until he ran out of coins to insert into the pay phone coin slot. They said goodbye simultaneously and hung up. Bobby did not mention a day or time he planned to call again and Ethel didn't ask.

She sat in silence trying to make sense of his position on her working, but she failed to understand why it was such a problem for him. If she went ahead and started to work what would he do when he got home? Would he beat her up, no, he'd never laid a hand on her except in a loving way, so she doubted he was capable of violence. Would he go so far as to move out and ask for a divorce? Or would he ostracize her until she finally quit. Could she stand any of these responses in order to have this job and some independence? It had been a long day and tomorrow she would think about what Bobby said, but she was going to work in two weeks at Smithwick and Smithwick.

Over the next two weeks Bobby called much more than he usually did and his remarks were like reading from the same script he presented the first night Ethel told him about the job. She let him rant and mostly said nothing unless he asked her point blank what did she intend to do and when he did she told him every time she planned on going to work. At that point the conversation always ended abruptly. Ethel managed to buy a few new outfits to wear to the office. She borrowed Nell's typewriter and each day practiced her typing skills. She checked out books from the library on English grammar and punctuation and even found old shorthand manual to brush up on those skills. She expected to ready to go when she assumed her new position. She was determined to make a good impression with her appearance and her abilities. Nell's regular visits to Ethel's house always included some helpful hints as she had worked off and on for several years in office jobs so her advice was taken seriously by Ethel.

Ethel was up earlier than normal to get breakfast and to take as much time as she needed to get ready. She arrived at the office a few minutes early and found Jeffery's older brother Winston already at the office and he let her in. He had been out of the country when Jeffery was interviewing for the position, but was comfortable with his younger brother making the choice. Winston was a middle aged man several years older than Jeffery with graying hair and a small moustache. He showed Ethel around before escorting her back to the reception area. He asked about her husband and she explained Bobby was a Pacific Coast League umpire and Winston seemed impressed. He asked how often Bobby came home and she told him after the season was over. She said he usually did odd jobs around town when he returned. Winston expressed an interest in meeting Bobby at some point and thought he might have some things for him to do if he was interested. Ethel told him she would mention that to Bobby the next time he called.

The office was opened that morning for business and Ethel was off and running with 10-15 phone calls the first hour. She greeted six clients who arrived for scheduled appointments with Jeffery and Winston. She typed five letters to be signed and mailed before noon and took dictation for Winston. On her lunch hour she went home to have a sandwich. By five o'clock she was exhausted like when she was in high school changing classes five times per day and rushing to cheerleader practice after school and going back to school in the evening hours to work on the school yearbook. She got home, changed clothes, mixed a large daiquiri and put her feet up. She didn't even turn on the TV; she wanted to relax in peace and quiet.

As the summer nearing its end Bobby called one evening to tell Ethel he was umpiring a season ending three game series between Phoenix and Portland and as soon as the series was over he'd be coming home on the train. She told him she looked forward to seeing him, but she didn't get the same response from him. For the past few weeks when Bobby called he did not mention Ethel's work, but she hoped he was coming to grips with the idea of her working. She hoped he'd be real happy when he got home and found out how much money she had saved in addition to the new improvements she had made in the house, like getting their bedroom painted, buying a new toaster for the kitchen so she wouldn't have to make toast in the oven, and having the oscillating fan repaired. She even managed to get a new rotor driven antenna installed on the roof providing improved reception on the TV, surely he would like that. How could he not be pleased with her working out of the house? She would soon find out.

Bobby called from somewhere in Indiana mid week to tell Ethel he'd be home by the weekend. She told him things would be ready as she was in the process of giving the house a thorough cleaning after working at the office all day, but Bobby wasn't interested in all that, he just wanted to return to a clean house. He told Ethel to make his favorite dinner, fried chicken, green beans, fried squash, and sweet potato biscuits, for the first night he was back. He said he would try to call again when he was within a day of arrival so she would know when to pick him up from the train station.

Ethel tried to imagine how things would be once Bobby was home. Until he got hired on with someone he would be at home while she went to work every morning and what would that feel like for him and how would he handle it? Would he get bored hanging around the house all day while she was working or might he just be angry because of her working? She hoped it wouldn't be long before he got something to do. She recalled Winston Smithwick mentioned earlier he might have some work for Bobby and she told him about it, but he never responded that he would be interested enough to talk to Winston about it, male pride she guessed, wouldn't want your wife helping you get a job, no, not that. Her conclusion was that at least for the short run things around the house would be stressful with Bobby there.

One morning when Winston Smithwick arrived at work Ethel mentioned the job possibility for Bobby and asked if he could be more specific about the duties of the position. Winston told her to come by his office later in the day and he'd talk to her about what he had in mind. Ethel returned to Winston's office at the end of the day and he explained what he envisioned Bobby doing. He said given the high volume of the firm's business he and Jeffery spent quite a bit of time going and coming from various places, especially the court house. They were spending too much of their valuable time running errands when they should be paying someone else to do those, but they hadn't set aside time to deal with hiring someone. Since they were quite comfortable with Ethel's work thus far, maybe this court messenger type position could work for Bobby until he returned to umpiring. Ethel listened intently while jotting down some notes to share with Bobby. She wanted to know what kind of pay Bobby could expect and Winston replied that he didn't know, but it would be a reasonable salary given the duties which would evolve as the job progressed, but he imagined the pay would be at least much as Bobby normally got for the odd jobs Ethel said he got every year. Ethel thanked Winston for his time and left to drive home. On the way home Ethel allowed her excitement to heighten as she thought of the possibilities of Bobby also working at the same place as she, maybe they would ride to work together each morning. Maybe, just maybe, this opportunity might motivate Bobby to resign from umpiring and be home, but the closer she got to the house the more she knew her husband, there was no way in hell he would consider this job now, especially a job she had any hand in. Why was he so dam stubborn, this could be a great fit for him and for the two of them, but she expected rejection and she would try to get mentally prepared for his reaction when she explained the job. She hoped she lived long enough to see women get some respect as equals in a marriage.

It was Friday afternoon when Bobby called Ethel at work to tell her to come pick him up at the station. She told him it would be a while because she just couldn't pick up and leave her desk, not even for a few minutes. She suggested he call a friend, Justin or maybe Tilmon and see if they could run over and get him, but no, he wanted his working wife to get him. She went down the hall to see if Jeffery or Winston was free so she could ask permission to leave, but the doors to their offices were closed suggesting they didn't want to be disturbed. She didn't know what to do, stay or leave, so she went back to her desk and resumed typing a letter. Bobby called again and this time he was extremely irritated. He demanded she come over and pick him up. She again tried to explain the difficulty in just walking out the door. She suggested he call the local cab company, no more business than they got they would certainly be available, but he didn't want to spend the money. He decided that since the distance from the train station to their house was a mile and a half he would walk home, dam it, but when she got home they would talk some more about this. Bobby's homecoming was not shaping up to be what Ethel had envisioned.

As Ethel drove home she worried about what condition she might find Bobby when she got home. Would he be asleep because of his long trip, drunk because he was frustrated over her unwillingness to pick him up at the station, or would he be there at all as in times past when he really got irritated he would get a pint of liquor and go off down in the woods and stay there until he was ready to return. She didn't expect a hug and a kiss when she opened the door and if she got knocked up beside the head, well, it would be the first time. She pulled into the driveway and shut off the ignition. She walked slowly to the front door listening for some sound, any sound, coming from the house, as she got closer she heard the familiar sound of the TV so she assumed Bobby was planted in front of the TV with a Schlitz in his hand. When she opened the door she could see the lower part of his legs stretched out from his favorite chair in what had evolved into a "TV" room. As she neared the room she called out and waited for a response, but nothing, so she slowed her movement toward the room. As she got closer she saw the rest of the body of her husband and as she entered the room they made eye contact. He did not smile, but did acknowledge her existence. Yes, he had a beer and beside his chair were three empties. She went over and leaned down to kiss him, but he turned away. Ethel assumed an erect position and turned to put her coat and handbag away. When she returned she asked Bobby if he wanted to talk and he shook his head. She went into the kitchen and began to assemble the ingredients for his favorite dinner. By six o'clock she called Bobby to the table and they sat down and commenced to eating. Ethel, trying to engage, asked how his trip was and got an "it was okay," then asked how his season went, and got an "it was okay," and do "you have any dirty clothes," and the answer was, "yes." Ethel terminated the dinner conversation and got up and threw the remainder of her dinner in the trash can. She went into the living room and picked up the daily newspaper and sat down to scan the headlines. After Bobby finished his dinner he walked into the living room and said, "tomorrow I want you to quit that job at Smithwick's, you don't need to work and I don't want any wife of mine working, not today, not tomorrow, not ever, I provide everything you need."

Ethel was silent for a moment trying to collect her thoughts before responding. "Bobby, I love you and I'm glad you are back home, but I'm not resigning, this job has been wonderful for me, I feel I have something to offer, I'm part of the team, I enjoy meeting the clients, Jeffery and Winston are pleased with my work, and when you just calm down about this I can explain you what all I have done here in our home since I took this job. Get over it, I'm not quitting," was Ethel's strong reply.

"We will see!" said Bobby, and then he left the house without telling Ethel where he was going. She finished reading the paper and took her bath before settling into a few hours of TV. By the time she got to bed still no Bobby. Ethel woke up at six and found Bobby in the bed next to her. She got up and got dressed for work before making her breakfast. Before she left for work she checked on Bobby, but he was still fast asleep. When she got to work Jeffery buzzed her to come to his office. "I met you husband Bobby last night, but it was not a pleasant introduction," said Jeffery.

Ethel, puzzled, asked, "What do you mean, you met him? Where? At the post office, the service station, where?"

"I met him at my house; he came to my house around nine and banged on the door. I don't normally expect visitors at that time of the evening, but there he was, I was, quite frankly, startled and thought about calling the police since I did not know who this rather inebriated man was," explained Jeffery.

"What did he want?" asked Ethel.

"Well, he was pretty direct in what his visit was about, he told me you were quitting your job, something about you didn't need to work and you told him you really didn't like the work or us, but just couldn't get the nerve to resign so he was doing it for you. He told me you would work a notice and then leave. He went on to say you two had talked about starting a family and you were ready to try to get pregnant. He was pretty emphatic about you wanting to leave our office," concluded Jeffery.

Ethel sat in stunned silence, she was nonplused. Why, why would Bobby do this to me, she thought? I love this job, this independence, this environment, I feel a purpose, a belonging, and now, for some strange reason he wants to take it away in put me back in the house.

Ethel finally responded, "Jeffery, I have no intention of resigning this position and I have every intention of staying on here as long as you will have me."

"As far as children, yes I wanted children, soon after we married I mentioned kids often, but every time I mentioned it Bobby went to the frig for another Schlitz, so I just stopped talking about a family, I mean I thought our life was good, it could be better perhaps with a couple of kids, but if both parents don't want that, well it could be just another dysfunctional family and this world doesn't need more of those. When I get home tonight I will talk to my husband about this, so all you need to know is I will be here every morning and work to the best of my ability." Offered Ethel.

Jeffery thanked her for her candor and told her he appreciated her contributions to Smithwick and Smithwick and that if she needed either of them they would be there for her. Ethel went back to her desk to collect her belongings and head for home and another confrontation with her husband.

As she drove home she tried to figure out just what she would say to Bobby. She knew her continued employment was nonnegotiable, she was staying. As far as having children, she had no idea where that came from and she was past the point where she wanted children. Suppose he brought up the demand she quit her job or he'd divorce her, would she quit rather than lose him, no, he could go. The truth was at that point she wasn't sure if she truly loved him and maybe that feeling was mutual. She may soon get to find out.

As she pulled into the driveway she noticed the lights were on, a sure sign Bobby was home waiting for her to cook his dinner. She entered the house and said "hello" and he responded in like fashion. As she put her bag on the table and turned around Bobby was staring her in the face. "Did you offer your resignation down at Smithwick and Smithwick today?" asked Bobby.

"Why would I ever resign from my great job, I love my job?" responded Ethel.

"By the way, Bobby, Jeffery Smithwick told me this morning you came to his house late last night and made a scene and he thought about calling the law. He felt threatened and I hope you don't plan on doing such a dumb ass thing like that again, it was terribly embarrassing to me and I have worked hard to gain their confidence and respect," said Ethel.

Ethel could tell Bobby was ready to explode by the steam exuding from the top of his head as she braced for his retort.

"Yes, I did go there to inform him you were quitting the job because we were planning on starting our family soon," Bobby replied.

"Wrong, you don't speak for me; if I ever resign I will make that decision when I am ready. I would never have you do such a thing for me and as far as having a family, when I wanted children, when I was younger, you never wanted to talk about it, so, why in heaven's name bring that up to Jeffery now, especially when you haven't mentioned it to me? I don't want any children now nor do you," Replied Ethel.

"I have a career at a professional law office, one of the best law firms in the region and I plan to stay there and make lasting contributions so I suggest you get used to it. What's wrong with a husband and wife working and making good money so we can have more and do more, tell me, what's wrong with that, big man? You've been so pissed off with me since you returned home you haven't given me a chance to explain what I have done FOR US since I went to work." Explained Ethel.

"I don't want a wife of mine working," Bobby replied.

"And that's it, that's your answer," quizzed Ethel, "you just don't want me to work and that's it?"

"What is your plan because as I said, I plan to keep working, so what do you intend to do now, ask for a divorce, leave or tell me to leave, shoot me or what?" asked Ethel.

With that Bobby turned and walked to the frig in search of a cold one, but found nothing but a half full bottle of milk and he hated milk. He stormed by Ethel in the direction of the front door, slammed it hard enough for a plant on the window sill in the kitchen to fall into the bottom of the sink and break into several pieces. Ethel heard the motor of the Ford turning over and soon she heard tires screeching as the treads hit the asphalt. She had no idea where Bobby was going and she didn't give a dam, but hoped he wasn't heading back to Jeffery Smithwick's house.

Bobby didn't return to the house that night. By the end of the week he still had not returned and made no attempt to contact Ethel as to his whereabouts. He had never done this, but Ethel assumed he was somewhere still stewing over her refusal to stop working. She thought about calling the police or the sheriff's office to report a missing person, but she was confident he was where he wanted to be. By the end of the month Ethel still had no communication from Bobby. Soon the leaves covered the ground rather than the trees as fall approached and still no Bobby. Ethel went to work every day had mostly good days and was always tired when she got home. She seldom had time for much else in the evening, but she did manage to continue singing with the church choir and attended choir practice most Wednesday nights. When she retired for the evening she seldom thought of her estranged husband. One day she received a letter, something she seldom received and noticed the return address was some hotel in San Diego. Who in the world did she know in San Diego? Maybe her crazy ass husband was back on the west coast. Well, if he was he could stay there. She opened the letter and sure enough it was from Bobby. He explained he decided to return to the west coast early to begin preparations for the upcoming season and had managed to land some temporary umpiring work south of the border in Mexico which provided a paycheck and some additional experience umpiring in a different situation. He went on to say he held out hopes of eventually ending up in the Major Leagues, but he knew that door was slowly closing. He didn't apologize to Ethel about abruptly leaving or the scene at Jeffery Smithwick's, that's not what a man does. He offered no hints as to if OR when he would return home. He told Ethel he hoped she had a good life and continued to enjoy her dam job which she interpreted as "goodbye forever."

Ethel never heard from Bobby again. Five years later she started seeing a new law partner at Smithwick and Smithwick away from work and two years later the man asked for her hand in marriage and Ethel wasted no time in telling him "No!" In 1982 she retired from Smithwick and

Smithwick with a generous pension complements of Jeffery and Winston and after selling her house she moved away.

The Red Light Is On

"Look! The lights on at Mozelle's," yelled one of the boys riding a Columbia bike with both front and rear fenders severely dented, serving as a method of identifying his bike from similar Columbia bikes of other boys. "Oh boy, I wonder who will be showing up tonight," said the boy on the Huffy bike. The boys giggled as they looked up at the second floor window on the right end of the building where Mozelle resided with her two children, a thirteen year old boy and a teenage girl who was a sophomore in high school. The boys did not know when Mozelle established a seemingly lucrative business in her home and they didn't really give a dam because for them it was something to do on a summer evening when they were bored. When the seasons changed the boys thought it was too cold just to sit for several hours so they confined this activity to the summer months. At night men would drive up and park their cars on the street and enter one of two doors on street level and take the stairs to the second floor. The building was a stone structure originally built sometime in the twenties to accommodate a banking operation, but several years ago the bank moved into a new location on the other side of the railroad depot. The lower level was now vacant while the second floor was home to Mozelle, her kids, and her business which featured non monetary deposits and withdrawals.

The boys were interested in observing the steady stream of visitors, which were most summer nights when the red light was on. They would park their bikes across the street at the train depot and climb atop the large mail wagons to get the best view. There were always empty mail wagons available to sit upon. The boys didn't know the details of how Mozelle's business operated but they knew when that red light was on, the store was open and the customers began arriving soon after dark. What was the significance of the red light? Did anybody know? Why not orange or green or...? The boys couldn't quite figure why the red light was off on some evenings. Mozelle had a business with customers so why not be open every night? All the other stores in town seemed to be open at some time every day or evening, but for some reason it was not necessary for her business to be open seven days a week. Maybe Mozelle charged more so she made more money in fewer days than the other establishments. Maybe her service was just better. The most cars the boys ever saw parked out front at any given time were three. It seemed to the boys that most of the customers would be in and out within thirty minutes, which they guessed must be a gracious plenty for whatever they were getting.

Mozelle was rarely seen outside the building, not like other townspeople who were seen daily at the post office, the grocery stores, the drug store, or maybe one of the two churches, the Baptist or the Methodist. As a matter of fact none of the boys had ever seen Mozelle. Mozelle's kids attended the same school as the boys, but since they were older these boys had little if any contacts with either. Occasionally they would see the boy out on the street after school riding his bike and they might speak to him as they rode by on their bikes, but that was about it. He did not participate in recreation league sports, the scouts, nor did he attend one of the churches so his exposure to the rest of the town was school and riding his bike after school. Mozelle's daughter was in high school and it was rumored that Mozelle's daughter was employed in the family business. Whether or not it was true didn't matter because rumors are always more interesting to explore and pursue than the truth. Who gives a shit about the truth, certainly not young boys?

It was a shame that these young boys had no more to do in the middle of summer than to sit across from someone's home and observe who comes and goes. Why didn't they watch television like their parents did after finishing dinner? What was wrong with that? Why didn't they play some board games or attend a scout meeting or some church activity, but no, they just wanted to hang out at the train depot and peer into windows of Mozelle's home. Most nights they would sit and watch until about nine o'clock, which was the usual time they needed to pedal to their respective homes and get their pajamas on. Of all the evenings the boys spent with their eyes fixed on Mozelle's place they never saw anyone they knew. This they thought was indeed unusual because if Mozelle's business was that good, that much better than the competition, why then didn't the locals frequent her place? The boys concluded that Mozelle's customers from other cities could not get served in their own towns. Mozelle's service seemed to be quick because these men were in and out so fast. Maybe that's why they came; it was quick while similar establishments in their respective towns were just too slow. Since there was usually more than one customer there at the same time Mozelle's business must have also been very efficient to get all needs met within thirty minutes. Maybe she had some sort of time limit imposed or maybe a time clock or buzzer sounded when the thirty minutes was up. The best analogy the boys come up with was that of a pizza delivery business. It was quick, efficient, and when you ordered a pizza they could tell you when it would be delivered.

Luckily, the boys had first hand information about these matters from other boys on the playground at school. Usually these were the older boys who had participated on a similar level in past summers but now had moved on to other more worthy pursuits. Being the helpful maturing boys they were they were happy to share what they knew with the younger set. The playground is a virtual information center and has been as long as there have been schools with playgrounds and time in the school day for recess.

You might wonder how Mozelle turned into a businesswoman when she could have been a teacher, a nurse, or a secretary for some old fat white man. Mozelle grew up in a family of sharecroppers in a rural area of North Carolina. As the first white settlers came to the region they grabbed up most of the land and the best of that land. As the years passed there was less and less available land to be had unless one had money to purchase land. How did people who had no land acquire enough money to buy what land there was? They worked for someone else, often as sharecroppers on some white man's land who needed someone to till the soil and harvest the crops. Some sharecroppers had more luck than others as they got a larger percent of the profit after the harvest than some of their sharecropper buddies down the road. Anyway, Mozelle was born into a family of sharecroppers. Things could have been worse. Mozelle's father, Buster Ray and her mother, Sadie Sue, worked the land by day, came home, ate dinner, and went to bed. One weekend they had enough energy left to expend about five minutes conceiving Mozelle.

Sometimes a marriage between a man and a woman just doesn't work out. They meet, to do some shit together again and again, fall in love and just can't get enough of each other so eventually they decide to get married. About fifty percent of the time the marriage works out and for better or worse the couple stays together until one or the other dies and then whoever is left decides how to live out their remaining years. One morning Buster Ray got up very early, packed what few clothes he owned and left before Sadie Sue or Mozelle had awakened. They never saw or heard from Buster Ray again.

There was another sharecropper, named Malvin, who worked in the fields with Sadie Sue and while he appeared to be a good man and husband to his wife Sherlene, he managed to find time to look at other women, especially the ones hired to help harvest the tobacco, especially Sadie Sue. The more he looked at her the better Sadie Sue looked. When he got home at night and noticed his tired, old wife Sherlene preparing another hot meal after her own long day in the field his mind turned to thoughts of Sadie Sue. He began to fanaticize about how nice it might be to get close to Sadie Sue. Well, no harm in dreaming he thought as he was once again summoned to the table for yet another meal prepared from scratch by his loving wife. After dinner Malvin and Sherlene often retired early to their bedroom to do what they did best in bed, sleep.

Malvin kept fanaticizing about Sadie Sue every day at work and wondering how in the world he could get up with her without Sherlene knowing even though most days they worked in different fields on the farm. What the hell, Malvin had needs, he bet Sadie Sue had some unmet needs and why couldn't he provide some assistance in that area. Sherlene, he thought, was having all her needs addressed. Well, pretty soon he realized it was time to doing something about this situation. He would just approach Sadie Sue and start up a conversation and see what happened. Um, what the hell should he talk about? All he knew anything about was dirt, crops, all that farming shit. He didn't know jack shit about cultural things, art, music, plays and shit, hell, he'd seen only one picture show in his whole boring life. Politics sure was out because he hated everything about the government and he despised all politicians. Sports? Shit no, women wouldn't know shit about that. He must get his "ice breaker" figured out.

After several more weeks of wishing and hoping he finally decided that the topic of his initial conversation would be Sadie Sue's appearance. He would complement Sadie Sue about her appearance because he knew women were vain about their looks, even in a dam hot ass tobacco field in the middle of July. Specifically he would mention how nice she looked in her dress or whatever she might have on that day, some shit like that just to get the conversation going. Now, what day could he muster up the courage to talk to her? He thought long and hard and hoped that when the time was right he would know, after all he was worldly; he had been in the army for three years and was stationed in Europe for two of those years, so he had been around women. The time had come for change. Every night at home was a repeat of the previous evening, dinner, tired and more tired, to bed and to sleep.

As soon as Mozelle was big enough to walk Sadie Sue took her to work every day always in hope that someone would assist in watching over her while Sadie Sue worked. Her plan always seemed to work as there was always someone around the break shelter to watch over Mozelle. Sadie Sue didn't have many other interests outside of working and caring for her daughter. Once in a while she would help out at the fall church bazaar, but that was only for a few hours on a Saturday morning. She hoped one day she would have sufficient financial resources to provide a better life for Mozelle.

Malvin continued to feast his eyes on Sadie Sue, who was about twenty-five at the time and had worked on this farm as a day laborer since high school. She dropped out of high school in her junior year when she got knocked up by Buster Ray whom she thought loved her and he did until that morning he got out of bed and left her forever. Mozelle and Sadie Sue had to move in with Sadie Sue's parents after Buster Ray left until she saved enough money to rent a smaller house than the one she lived in with Buster Ray. Sadie Sue had managed to acquire a part-time job as a waitress at a truck stop on weekends to make extra money to hasten the move out of her parents' home. Her parents were able to care for Mozelle until she was old enough to go to work on the farm with Sadie Sue. Sadie Sue's parents would keep Mozelle on weekends while Sadie Sue worked at the truck stop.

Malvin thought Sadie Sue could be the one, young, lonely, maybe just the type who could have a relationship with a real man and keep it quiet, at least until he was sure he wanted in for the long term. It appeared to him she wasn't going anywhere since she was basically damaged goods what with that kid and all. He'd take a shot and see, just see, what would happen; after all he was in need of getting up with something, anything except the woman he went home to every night.

One Thursday at lunch break he made eye contact with Sadie Sue and she responded with a smile. Malvin interpreted this as a sign, an indication to move in. As they headed to the lunch tables set up for the workers he approached Sadie Sue and asked if he could join her at the table. She smiled again and told him yes he could sit at her table. He first asked about Mozelle, which showed he was a caring soul, and then asked Sadie Sue about how her work was going down at the truck stop. She asked few questions to Malvin, being quite willing to mostly listen to what he had to say. For several weeks they had lunch together occasionally as Malvin did not want to be too pushy. Malvin did make a point of stopping by the truck stop every weekend to buy something, anything, just to see Sadie Sue and speak to her. After numerous lunches at work together and several visits to the truck stop Malvin was ready for the next level, a rendezvous, a date or whatever one might call it, but how? How in the hell could he be with her one on one without Sherlene knowing or the nosy townsfolk knowing? News like this travels fast in a small town with one caution light. He needed to give more thought to his plan. Meanwhile at home Sherlene assumed all was well with their marriage. Little did she know old Malvin had plans to make some changes.

Finally, one day at lunch Malvin just put his cards on the table. He told Sadie Sue he really liked her, he enjoyed spending time with her at lunch and he just wished they could see more of each other, especially away from work. At first she seemed surprised and was terse with her comments, which made him wonder if he had just stepped in it. Malvin abruptly got up and told Sadie Sue he had to return to work and he would see her later. His new strategy was to expend no more energy and wait see if she would make an effort to continue the relationship, if you could call it that. Days went by and the lunches together became less and less frequent. He continued to think either Sadie Sue would eventually give him some sign or she wouldn't and that would be the end of it. Then it happened. Sadie Sue approached him one morning before they entered to the fields to begin work and asked if he could take her home from the truck stop next Saturday. He immediately replied that he would be there, and spent the rest of the day trying to figure out just how he could pull this off. While he was away from home quite often on weekends, it was rare indeed that he has ever away from Sherlene for more than an hour or two. What if she became suspicious at his long absence from home? What alibi could he come up with? He had the rest of the week to come up with something and he felt confident he could fabricate a story if he needed one. For the remainder of the day all he could think of was being alone with Sadie Sue on Saturday. When he got home he couldn't get her out of his mind. He ate very little of his food which necessitated Sherlene asking if he was sick. He laid awake in bed past midnight trying to come up with a lie for Sherlene in case she might ask why he was out so long on Saturday.

Friday, the last day of the work week and still Malvin had no story. He was very excited about his upcoming "date" with Sadie Sue. That evening he came up with his story. Why had it taken this long? Malvin would tell Sherlene he needed to take the car to the repair shop since he didn't have the time during the work week and couldn't afford to lose a day's pay. Sure! If he was late and she enquired he would tell her the mechanic had more repairs than initially expected so he had to stay longer to have all the repairs done. Yes, this would be his story. He was ready.

The next day was Saturday and Malvin was up early. He got a bath which he almost never did on Saturday mornings. This action made him wonder if Sherlene would become suspicious, but she did not ask. He even put on his Sunday clothes which he also never did on Saturday mornings. Sherlene did ask about the outfit he put on since as he had told her he was going to an auto mechanic's shop. He told her well he just felt like "getting dressed up" and that was it and she seemed fine with his answer. At about twelve thirty he told Sherlene goodbye, got in his car and drove to the truck stop. Sadie Sue was waiting just outside the entrance when he drove up. He got out and went around to the passenger side and opened the door for her, something he never did for Sherlene. Malvin got back in the car and drove the two of them to Sadie Sue's house. When they got there she told him her mother was keeping Mozelle for the day and her parents would be bringing her back later that afternoon. They sat down in the parlor and had a nice, long uninterrupted chat until she left the room to prepare some sweet tea. When Sadie Sue returned with a pitcher of tea and two glasses Malvin was standing up looking out of one of the large windows in the parlor. As Sadie Sue sat the tray down on the coffee table Malvin walked over and when Sadie Sue straightened up and turned in his direction he kissed her. She did not back away, but engaged him in several minutes of passionate kissing. For a brief time Malvin felt like a teenager all over again and realized he had missed being this close to a woman. Malvin and Sherlene seldom if ever gave any affection toward each other anymore. He wanted so much to go further, but was afraid she would refuse. After their embrace he looked at his pocket watch and wondered where the time had gone. He realized he must leave before Mozelle returned. They had one more kiss at the door and he left. He waved to her as he drove away from the curb.

When Malvin got home Sherlene asked if the car had been repaired and he said yes. She asked how much the repairs cost and what all did the mechanic have to do? She caught him off guard with these questions and he labored in trying to provide some credible answers. Sherlene appeared puzzled with Malvin's responses, but after the two questions she ended the interrogation. After dinner Malvin read the latest copy of Reader's Digest while Sherlene repaired some of his overalls. At about nine o'clock he told Sherlene he was going to bed as he was really tired. Sherlene stayed up until eleven thirty mending his dam clothes. As Malvin lay in bed looking at the ceiling he thought about his day and wondered just what direction he wanted to go with his life. Did he want his date with Sadie Sue to go further? Did he want to stay married to Sherlene? Did he want to burn the candle at both ends? He was confused.

Malvin drove Sherlene to work first every morning as the farm she worked on was further from their house. When Malvin got to work on Monday he looked for Sadie Sue, but did not see her. Perhaps she was already out in one of the fields. Maybe she was sick or maybe her daughter Mozelle was sick. Since sharecroppers had no telephones calling in sick was not an option. As the day moved from morning to afternoon then late afternoon and quitting time Malvin realized Sadie Sue never showed up for work so something was going on. He had to find out. He got in his car and drove in the direction of Sadie Sue's house. As he drove by her house he noticed a car, but since he was not yet making a habit of checking on her he thought nothing of the car parked in front of the house. The next day when Malvin arrived to work still no sight of Sadie Sue. He was concerned, shit, he had a good time last Saturday with Sadie Sue and he had hopes that something could happen between them, but where the hell was she? After work he repeated his route by Sadie Sue's house. This time he saw a car, but it was a different car. Melvin was becoming more and more disillusioned. Just what the hell was going on with Sadie Sue? He drove home and all night he tried to figure out what was up with Sadie Sue and what, if anything should he do? After all, he was married and this girl, this Sadie Sue, was just another worker on the same farm he worked on and both were paid by the same landlord. Why should he even give a shit? She's just another woman and all he did was kiss her last Saturday and then drove home to be with Sherlene. Maybe he should try to just forget about the whole dam thing.

The next day the same routine, work, then drive by Sadie Sue's and observe a car, a different car, parked in front of her house. Enough is enough Malvin thought. Tonight he must figure out how to find out just what the hell was going on. The next morning at work he had a revelation; why not ask some of the laborers, especially the women since they usually had firsthand knowledge of all rumors, just ask them where Sadie Sue was. Using this procedure Malvin had his answer within the first hour. Sadie Sue had quit and was just working at the truck stop, but several of the women heard that her work hours had been increased. Well, that explained why Malvin did not see her at the farm every morning, but it sure didn't explain about all the cars, the different cars in front of Sadie Sue's house every night. He would have to investigate further to find out about the cars.

Every night when Malvin got home Sherlene would at least ask Malvin how his day went and he tried, he always tried to with a meaningful exchange with her about his day, but shit, how different is Monday through Friday working in a tobacco field? After dinner they tried to talk to each other, but since had few interests outside work there really wasn't much to talk about. On a few occasions Sherlene would bring the subject of wanting kids since she felt her child bearing years were becoming fewer and fewer as another year passed. Malvin usually tried hard to change the subject by asking her if she wanted to eat out at the fish camp on Friday night.

Meanwhile at work all Malvin could do was fantasize about Sadie Sue. He decided the next time he drove by her house and there was no car parked outside he would park his car and go knock on her door. The worst thing that could happen is she would refuse to come to the door. The first two days he drove by, different cars parked by the curb, then came Wednesday and upon driving by he did not see a car. He slammed on his brakes, backed up, and parked next to the sidewalk in front of Sadie Sue's house. He walked up onto the porch and approached the front door. He knocked on the door four times, then stepped back and waited. He peered through the thin curtain pulled tight across the glass in the upper part of door to see if he could see Sadie Sue coming to the door. Nothing. He looked again, this time to see if any lights were on, but it was hard to see much through the curtain. He knocked again, but this time he administered five rapid, louder knocks. Shit, maybe she was not home yet, after all Malvin did not know her new hours she was pulling at the truck stop, so maybe she was still at work. Ok, he would get back in his car and drive past the truck stop. When he got to the truck stop he decided to just stop, go in and see for himself what was going on with Sadie Sue. Before he went in he reviewed what he intended to say. First, he would say he found out she had quit the farm and he was happy for her. Then he would ask about Mozelle, her daughter. If he got that far he would then ask about the current status of their relationship if he could call it a relationship. He knew he had to be careful because she was on the job and he didn't want to embarrass her or cause her boss to jump in her shit about having people coming to see her while she was on the time clock. Maybe worse of all, what if someone who knew Sherlene observed this spectacle, what then? He had to be careful.

When Malvin entered the truck stop the first person he saw was Sadie Sue behind the counter filling up the coffee urn. She did not see him, but turned around when he spoke to her. They smiled at each other and exchanged verbal greetings. There were only two customers at two different tables so Malvin figured Sadie Sue had time to talk. He did not observe anyone in sight of him who appeared to be a boss man, so he continued with his prepared questions. He asked about her quitting at the farm and she was quick with a response. The boss at the truck stop offered her more money and better hours so she would have time for "other things." She did not mention Mozelle as one of the other things she would have more time for and Malvin didn't press it. He asked about Mozelle and Sadie Sue said she was fine as her parents were taking care of her by day and next fall she would enter the first grade so her parents would only be taking care of her a few hours after school. There was a pause before Malvin's next question, the one about the depth of their relationship. Still all was fairly quiet in the truck stop; actually one of the customers was at the cash register waiting to pay his bill so Sadie Sue had to attend to him before getting back to Malvin's questions. There was still no sign of any boss man, so it was now or never for Malvin. When the customer left Malvin opened up, "Sadie Sue I really enjoyed our time together last Saturday and I was wondering when we could get together like that again." Sadie Sue looked Malvin in the eyes for a moment, then replied, "Malvin, I too had a good time, but right now I'm sort of busy with things and I'm concerned about us meeting again. I know you are married, actually I knew you were married before I let you come to my house." This reply was not what Malvin wanted to hear, that bitch! Who the hell does she think she is? He was pissed but tried to maintain some control as there was still one customer seated in a booth nearby. He asked about all the cars parked on different evenings in front of her house. Sadie Sue told Malvin they were just friends who dropped by. Malvin responded with, "but a different car parked in front of your house every night, dam, I think that is strange." Sadie Sue told Malvin it really was none of his business and to let it go and as of right now she had no immediate plans to be further involved with Malvin. Malvin was devastated. He looked up at Sadie Sue then turned and walked out the door, got in his car and drove home. Malvin had been "shot down."

By the time Malvin got home he was not a happy camper, but upon entering his home he realized he didn't need to appear pissed off or Sherlene might get wind of something. Sherlene and Malvin did their usual evening rituals and by ten o'clock both were sound asleep. The next day at work Malvin analyzed the Sadie Sue situation and tried to figure out the next move if there was to be a next move. Perhaps Sadie Sue really didn't give a dam about him, if so, best to cut the strings now. Maybe he just needed to work on the relationship he had, his marriage to Sherlene. Sherlene was not a bad woman and at times, mostly in the past, they had actually enjoyed each other's company, just when that was Malvin could not remember. Perhaps they should start that family Sherlene wanted. Maybe he wanted a family but was too dumb to know that he did. He just couldn't get those cars at Sadie Sue's out of his mind, he needed answers. Where did she get all those friends because he knew she never talked to anyone at the farm and what with the additional job at the truck stop he doubted she had all that time to socialize? Perhaps it was just some car salesman who sold used cars so he got to drive a different one each day. Maybe it was something totally different. He wanted closure, even though yes, it was just the one evening and just the few intimate moments with Sadie Sue. He decided what he would do. One day soon he would drive by Sadie Sue's house and if he saw a car he would stop and find out who the hell was at her house. This was quite possibly a bad decision by Malvin. People get shot doing crazy shit like that!

The next time Malvin drove by Sadie Sue's house he noticed another different car parked outside. He noticed something this time that he failed to notice all the other times. There was a small red light in one of the front windows. Being so small might have been the reason he had failed to notice it until tonight. Rather than confronting Sadie Sue in the presence of her "guest(s)" Malvin just drove home. Each day for the next several weeks as he drove by Sadie Sue's he would look for the red light, but the light was not always on. If the light was burning there was always a car parked out front he did not recognize. Later, he began to notice that some of the cars were now the same and often when he drove by he noticed more than one car at the house. He finally figured it out and was satisfied that he had done the right thing. The relationship had gone no further and he had not ruined a marriage to a good woman. He went home to his wife, Sherlene, and together they had a nice long talk culminating in an agreement they would start immediately to increase the size of their family. Malvin never brought up his infatuation with Sadie Sue, as he felt no need to share this information with Sherlene. Within a year Malvin and Sherlene had a baby girl they named Josie Ray. A year later Malvin, Sherlene, and Josie Ray terminated the sharecropping agreement with the landlord and moved to Tennessee. Malvin had worked hard, done without, and had saved some money, enough to buy a small piece of land on which he built a small house. Sherlene and Malvin along with their daughter Josie Ray lived on that land the rest of their lives. The family size was increased over the years by three, two sons and one more daughter. As far as Malvin knew Sherlene never knew about Sadie Ray. But then again maybe she did.

Sadie Sue continued working at the truck stop while she continued her other business in her home. When Mozelle turned fifteen Sadie Sue welcomed her into the family owned business and together they made a fair amount of money which provided a better than average life style given the dip shit town they lived in. Sadie Sue died at age forty-five with what the local doctor said was "overwhelming complications due to a common malady better known as a social disease." Mozelle continued her good work and later moved into the two story building across from the train depot where the boys of summer watched the many satisfied customers come and go from her residence. The light is on.

The Journey No One Wants To Take

Shortly after Craig assumed responsibility for caring for his aging father George, diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, he prepared a journal and penned entries when time permitted. One day while clearing out needed storage space in a bedroom closet he found the spiral notebook, the journal, containing his notes of George's final journey. As he sat on one of the twin beds he slowly sifted through each page, realizing he had forgotten most of the particulars of George's perdition. As a young man Craig never remotely considered the possibility of caring for an aging parent, but then why would he, he was young and parents were always going to be around, they always had been. Suddenly with warnings that went unnoticed he was compelled at age forty-five to take charge of aspects of George's life he never anticipated. He recalled an empty feeling at the time because he hadn't able to identify George's problems himself. He reflected on his frustrations of navigating through the health care waters and discovering there was no one source of information concerning care for an aging parent. He learned that the quality of care in long term care facilities was anything but consistent. There were some facilities that employed very skilled and understanding people who labored to make the quality of the residents' lives as fruitful as they could, yet other facilities employed people who were not as competent and caring, but were found to be condescending, disrespectful to residents and in some instances were audacious enough to steal their belongings.

As Craig leafed through the pages of the journal he mumbled to himself, "I never asked for this, why at that time in my life did I have this responsibility dumped in my lap?" Craig's mother had passed away only two years prior his being faced with the daunting task of caring for his father. George's first cousin, Simon, called Craig on the first day of October, 1992, to alert him that George was at the bank where Sallie, Simon's wife worked, demanding an explanation about his bank balance. George thought he had more money in his checking account than his monthly bank statement indicated. Simon further alluded to Craig that George had been observed with two women driving in and out of the "bad section" of Anvil. Other concerned citizens had spotted these same women leaving George's house and seeing the three of them recently in his 1982 Cadillac at a local service station. "It's none of my business, but I thought you needed to know," said Simon.

Later that afternoon Sallie called Craig and told him that George was writing checks for hundreds of dollars per day and if he continued this pace his account would be depleted within a few weeks. Craig began the task of attempting to piece together the shifts in George's behavior. Subsequent visits to George's house revealed several glaring signs that something indeed was different, the stacks of unpaid bills, the recent dents in the automobile, stacks of dirty dishes, empty chicken boxes and hamburger wrappers, and piles of dirty clothes. When Craig confronted George about his unpaid bills George replied, "I paid those bills." When Craig enquired about the new dents in the car, George replied, "What dents?" Craig was discerning that George, the man with the forearms like Popeye the Sailor, the problem solver, the former semi-pro baseball player, and a past chairman of the county Republican Party in the fifties, had reached the point where he was not capable of handling his day to day affairs.

On October 2, 1992, Craig took personal leave from work to travel to Anvil to visit George. When he arrived at the house on Main Street he found George in his favorite room smoking his pipe and watching the TV Craig had given him for Christmas the first year he was employed after his college graduation. While George continued to watch TV Craig rummaged through George's bills, bank deposits, and other mail and when he finished he questioned George about the abundance of checks he was writing to individuals. George answered, "I like to help people." Craig continued to interrogate George about writing so many checks to these people, but George denied writing the checks and when shown the checks he had no comment. Craig realized something had to be done, but he wasn't sure what he should do.

When Craig returned home later that day he called his sister Laura's husband, Ben, an attorney, to seek his advice on what he could legally do to help George since he had power of attorney. Ben offered to contact a magistrate in Anvil County to request a petition to have George evaluated at the county mental health clinic. Ben was able to get the appointment scheduled for the following week. Craig returned to Anvil to take George to the mental health clinic. After the evaluation was completed the staff confirmed that George was suffering from early stages of dementia and recommended he be taken to Turner State Hospital for more extensive tests. A deputy sheriff was summoned to assist in transporting George to Turner State Hospital. When Craig told George he was being transferred to the hospital he became confrontational. He first refused to get in the car, but when the deputy deceived him by offering to take him home George fell for it and got in the car. Craig followed the patrol car back to the house. Upon arrival George sat in the back seat of the locked patrol car while Craig and the deputy gathered some of George's clothes to take to the hospital. Craig followed the deputy in his own car to the hospital. Along the way Craig had flashbacks of earlier times with his parents and he realized he would never sleep another night in his parents' house or ever walk in the front door on a Sunday afternoon and see George sitting in front of the television puffing on his pipe. Craig was now responsible for securing the best care he could for his only remaining parent.

By the time they arrived at the hospital late that afternoon, Craig was focused on advancing whatever actions were necessary to get George needed care. Once the admission paperwork was completed George was placed in a room locked from the outside, much like a prison cell. Craig was allowed to visit with his father before he left the facility. George had little to say but he did make it very clear that when he got out of "this dam place" he would do everything he could to figure out how to get Craig admitted to that same room. Craig left that day feeling melancholy, but as he drove away he believed he had done the right thing by removing his father from a bad situation which had the potential to get worse. Hopefully George would receive better care at the hospital than what he was administering to himself at his home. On the way home Craig stopped at a bar and had a few drinks. While he sat at the bar watching a game and consuming his drink he contemplated how George's journey would end.

Craig did not travel to the hospital for a couple of weeks, electing to give George some time to adjust to his new surroundings. After feeling guilty about not visiting he finally decided to drop in to see George on a Sunday afternoon. Access into the hospital was not easy, but after passing through several checkpoints Craig finally got to George's wing located on the second floor. He sat in the waiting room while a staff person went to notify George he had a visitor. When George arrived at the waiting room a nearby aide helped him position himself on a couch. He had a pleasant conversation with Craig for about fifteen minutes before summoning the aide to accompany him back to his room. Craig found George to be a bit calmer than the day he was admitted. He seemed comfortable in his new situation and during the visit he never mentioned returning home.

During George's stay at the hospital he was exposed to various mental and physical screenings. Various members of the medical staff were frequently on the phone with Craig providing updates on George's status. After a plethora of phone calls they informed Craig that George was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's and they predicted his condition would continue to get progressively worse. They further intimated that George was also suffering from congestive heart failure, which Craig already knew about since George's doctor in Anvil County had previously diagnosed the condition in 1985. The staff alluded to several medications George would be administered to benefit his weak heart. If and when the staff decided on an apropos time for George to be discharged Craig would have to identify an appropriate nursing home that would admit George. Craig reluctantly accepted that George would never again be the man he wanted so much to remember.

On October 14, 1992, Craig received a call from the hospital medical staff regarding a growth on George's leg. The staff revealed that while George was making progress, he still continued to be rather difficult and uncooperative with essentially all of the hospital staff. Craig informed the staff that he had an exclusive durable power of attorney for George, so when they decided the best time for the surgery he could sign the authorization. The staff requested he send a copy of the power of attorney to their office. Once the document was received and reviewed they would send a form for Craig to sign authorizing the procedure. Craig asked the staff about George's wishes regarding the removal of the growth and they told him they had not yet spoken to him about it. When Craig visited George the next Sunday he asked him about the operation to remove the growth and George told him he did not want any surgery done on him anywhere for any reason.

On November 22, 1992 Craig received a letter from the North Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles (D.M.V.) stating that George failed to appear in district court in September for a traffic ticket he received in July. George owned two cars, a 1982 Cadillac which he drove most of the time and a 1978 Oldsmobile which he seldom drove. The letter further stated George would have to surrender his expired vehicle license tag. Craig called the D.M.V. clerk and told her he would send a check for $25.00 to cover the cost of the fine. He asked for advice as to what could be done with George's cars since he doubted George would ever drive again. The clerk gave Craig a number to call for assistance with his inquiry, but instead he drove to the local Department of Motor Vehicles office to turn in the expired tag. He was told that since the tag had expired the D.M.V. did not need it, but they reluctantly accepted it. He inquired about disposal of George's cars and was told he could declare both cars junk by writing "junked" across the vehicle titles, and then mail the titles to the D.M.V. in Raleigh. He could then sell the cars to a savage dealer. He contacted George's brother to update him on his health status and his brother offered to tow the Olds to a local junk yard to be sold for scrap metal. George's brother had the Olds towed shortly after their phone call, but within two weeks he had the car picked up and returned to George's front yard because Craig didn't "thank" him enough for attending to the vehicle. After the episode Craig realized he should have never dealt with George's brother as he had known for a long time he was not very reliable. He decided the Olds would remain parked in George's front yard for the time being.

The next day Craig received a forwarded letter from George's bank that included two bad checks. He wrote two new checks plus a check to the bank to cover the cost of writing bad checks and sent all three checks out in the afternoon mail. He got a phone call the same day from the hospital informing him that George had been taken to the medical unit because of cardiovascular and respiratory problems. He contacted the medical unit and was told that George's vital signs were stable, he was alert and preparing to eat dinner, but had complained of pain in his back.

Craig called the power company to have the power cut off at George's house. He called Sallie at George's bank and had a bank draft on the power company and a bank draft for an accidental death insurance policy terminated. He told Sallie he planned to sell George's house as soon as he got an appraisal and a survey and if Simon had any interest in helping sell the house he would compensate him. She said she would talk to her husband about Craig's offer. He informed Sallie that George's next door neighbor expressed "some interest" in buying the house. The neighbor asked Craig what price he expected to ask for the house and when he told her, "$25,000," she said, "you'll never get it," which pissed Craig off so much he knew he would never sell the house to her at any price. He never heard back from Simon regarding his interest in helping sell the house, perhaps Sallie never told him.

On the following Saturday Craig awoke at 5:30am and drove to Anvil. He stopped at George's store and discovered that the locks on the doors had been changed. George had been renting the store to John Richardson who sold used tires. Craig figured John must have changed the locks, so rather than waiting until he arrived he drove to George's house. He checked on everything including a broken window upstairs which had been repaired by a handy man he had contacted. Craig called the two nurses across the street who rented a lot for their house trailer from George to update them of his medical condition. They had been very good about checking on George from time to time, but apparently not good enough to be aware of all that had been going on. He explained that when George was discharged from the hospital he would likely be admitted to a nursing home; therefore, all three lots, including the lot they were renting would eventually need to be sold. After he concluded his conversation with the nurses he dialed the telephone company and had George's telephone service discontinued. He turned off the water from the private well at the house then left to visit George before returning home.

When Craig arrived at the hospital George was lying in bed with an IV in his arm. He went down the hall to find a nurse to get an explanation regarding the IV. When he found the shift nurse she told Craig the IV was ordered because of George's continuing problem with dehydration. The nurse told Craig George kept pulling the IV out which made his improvement difficult. When Craig returned to the room George asked when he would be leaving the hospital and Craig told him, "not today." George asked about his money for he was convinced the bank "did away with it." Craig assured him his money was safe and again asked George about the checks he had written to the same people, but he had no recollection of writing any checks. He seemed very confused about recent events. Craig tried to explain things and George would understand, then in fifteen minutes George would ask the same questions about the same things that had been explained thirty minutes ago. These ongoing interchanges corroborated the diagnosis of progressive dementia the hospital staff had earlier mentioned. Craig asked George about the growth on his leg and George told him it had been removed, but when Craig noticed the growth on his leg George told him that it was "a new one."

Craig received a bill on November 29, 1992, from the Anvil County Tax Office for delinquent taxes on George's house, store, and the three lots. He promptly wrote a check for the total amount and mailed it to the tax office.

On November 30, 1992, Craig called the hospital and asked to speak directly with the doctor in charge of George's care. The receptionist took the message and the doctor returned Craig's call within the hour. The doctor told him since George continued to be largely uncooperative their attempts to perform further tests were impeded. She told Craig George's key problems were memory loss and back pain and she believed he needed to get up and move around more, but when he did he started to complain they left him alone and let him get back in bed. She concluded that George could simply not function independently and never would again. After the call with the doctor was completed Craig called the hospital business office to ask more questions about Medicare coverage. He was told if George remained a patient much longer Medicare would cease to cover his expenses early in 1993. On December 1, 1992, Craig received another returned check from the bank written to the propane gas company. He wrote a check for the amount owed to the gas company plus an additional check for the bad check charge to the bank and dropped those payments in the mail. He tried to be optimistic and hope all the bills would eventually be paid.

On December 6, 1992, Craig got a call from the hospital social worker notifying him that George had stopped eating. She said George had not eaten in two days nor had anything to drink; therefore they were administering IV fluids. She said George seemed hopeless and depressed and was still experiencing back pain. The doctor put George on Zoloft, a new anti-depressant drug. She informed him that when George was stabilized they planned to conduct more tests to confirm the cause of the back pain. Craig told the social worker he intended to visit George the next day and he would bring some of his favorite food.

On December 7, 1992, Craig arrived midday at the hospital experienced the same difficulty reaching George's hall. When he finally got to the hall he was told George was napping, consequently he had to sit in the waiting room until they got him awake and dressed. In about twenty minutes the door opened and a shift worker pushed George in a wheelchair down the hallway to the waiting room. George had a stoic expression on his face as he entered the waiting room. Craig noticed George had on clean clothes, but not the clothes he had brought to the hospital the day George was admitted. Craig opened a bag of chocolate chip cookies and handed them to his father who ate most of the bag. When George finished eating the cookies he asked for water, so Craig went in search of water and found a fountain but no cups were available. He found a soft drink machine at the end of the hall and decided to bring George a soft drink. He returned and gave the drink to George and he drank most of it. Craig asked, "What are you thinking?" George replied, "nothing much." "They told me you were depressed," Craig said. "I just don't give a dam," was George's reply. Soon after that terse exchange George requested to return to his room to finish his nap. Craig wheeled him back to his ward door where the attendant pushed George back into his room. Craig told George goodbye and George responded likewise. Craig left the hall thinking that George had on clean clothes, had food when he wanted it, was getting his necessary medications, and had a soft bed to sleep in. That might be enough.

On Monday Craig called the social worker to set up an appointment to meet with the entire staff involved with George. The meeting was set for Thursday morning and when Craig arrived everyone on George's treatment team was present. The doctor began by describing George's back pain. They were administering Motrin, Tylenol, and Codeine to alleviate his back pain. She also mentioned George was depressed and expressed confidence that the Zoloft prescribed would help George would "snap out of it," but she thought it might take as much as 4-6 weeks to determine the effectiveness of the medication. The team spoke of the presence of arthritis, which Craig remembered as a child when George had first been diagnosed back in the fifties They told him George's congestive heart failure had been stabilized with appropriate medications and he was participating in physical therapy three times a week. The nutritionist mentioned that George said he was feeling better and she observed he had been eating better the last few days. The doctor said George's dementia would continue to get worse, but there was simply no way to determine how fast the dementia would advance. The doctor told Craig flatly George would never go home again. Craig spent most of the day commuting to and from the meeting so the next day he took a half day off from work.

On December 18, 1992, Craig was still waiting for the monthly Social Security check to arrive in the mail so he could pay more of George's bills. He called the local Social Security office and was told that the check had been mailed. The Social Security person told him they could reissue the check but that it would not arrive for at least three weeks, so he elected to wait for the original check to arrive. Craig also received a bill from the hospital for $652.00 which was part of George's deductible under Medicare.

Craig drove his family to see George on Sunday. He found his dad in good spirits; actually George was in the best frame of mind he had been in since he was admitted to the hospital. George talked to Craig's children, smiled and laughed quite a bit, like the old days. Craig left with his family after about an hour and felt pretty good about George's improvement. Craig received a call the next day from one of the hospital doctors informing him that George had an enlarged prostate because of an elevated calcium level. Craig wondered if this elevated level was caused by George's consumption of large quantities of milk during his life.

Craig received a call from Laura to tell him her daughter was going to visit her grandfather within the next few days. The next day he received a call from George's brother and his "new" (the third in the series) wife. Craig heard a lot of B.S. about the "love" his brother had for George, but it was hard to listen because he felt none of it was true, especially after the towed car incident.

The next time Craig went to see George he found him to be in the best condition he had seen him since he was admitted to the hospital. He was coherent and actually stepped gingerly as he walked down the hall to the waiting room. George told him his brother had paid a visit that week, but didn't mention what they talked about. After leaving the hospital Craig drove to George's house to check on things and see if everything was in order.

On December 23, 1992, Craig took the family to see George. George smiled as he opened his Christmas presents from the children and appeared to be very appreciative of the gifts and the visit. The social worker came by and said she fully expected George to be moved to a long term care facility early in the New Year. After New Year's Day Craig received a call from the social worker informing him that George had been moved to a new hall and she was in the process of starting paperwork to have George discharged soon.

On January 5, 1993 Craig went to visit George at the hospital, but could not find George in his room. He checked with the shift nurse and was told George was on a bus trip with other patients and would return soon. Craig went to the front of the building to wait and within the hour he spotted the bus pulling up in front of the building. Craig went back to George's hall and sat in the waiting room until George came in escorted by an attendant. Craig visited for about an hour and had a very positive conversation with George. When he left that day he was very encouraged that perhaps George would be leaving the hospital soon for a long term care facility near Craig's house.

Craig received a call from the social worker on January 25, 1993, concerning long term care facilities close to his home with available beds. He wrote down the names and phone numbers of the facilities. After he finished talking to the social worker he immediately called the facilities to get information. He set up appointments to visit the facilities by the end of the week. The first facility was not impressive, too dark, too dirty, too smoky, and smelled like urine. After taking a brief tour of the Rose Nursing Home and meeting with the director of nursing he was convinced that this nursing home would be a good fit for George. This new facility had 60 beds total with 10 beds available for new patients. When Craig inquired about the cost he was informed the room would cost $85.00 per day until George "spent down" his existing funds to a remaining balance of $1500.00, then he would be eligible for Medicaid. George's existing bank balance would be depleted in approximately one month assuming Craig did not get any more "surprise" bills. The nursing home director explained to Craig that a long term care form would have to be prepared by the hospital and sent to the facility to determine George's eligibility.

On February 5, 1993, Mat called a realtor in Anvil and asked him to list George's house, the store, and the three lots. The agent immediately offered to purchase the store for $10,000 and Craig accepted the offer. He then called Laura to inform her of the impending sale of the store.

On February 14, 1993, Craig visited George and told him about the sale of the store and his intent to sell his house and the three lots. He also told George he expected to move him closer to his home very soon. After all this time away from home George was still not requesting to return. Craig felt that George understood he could not care for himself any more.

John Richardson called and told Craig a man was in the store wanting to buy George's 1982 Cadillac. Craig told the man over the phone the price was $400.00 and the man agreed to pay the asking price. When Craig hung up the phone he realized he did not have the title to the Cadillac.

Craig called John and asked him to go by George's house and get the serial number on the Cadillac. Once Craig had the serial number he called D.M.V. to request a new title, but was told a request for lost title and a transfer of title could be done all in the same order, so Craig decided to do a title transfer. He called John and asked him to contact the prospective buyer for the Cadillac to tell him he had requested a title transfer and as soon as he received the title he would drive to Anvil to complete the transaction.

Craig received a call from the Rose Nursing Home, the long term care form from the hospital had been received and as soon as he came by to complete the remaining admissions paperwork his father could be admitted. He agreed on a time the next day to go to the facility to complete the paperwork. When he arrived he was reminded that as long as George had some money he would have to private pay. The director mentioned that the D.S.S. office in George's home county would soon need to communicate with the local D.S.S. office regarding Medicaid coverage. The director also mentioned a local doctor would need to be selected and agree to accept George as a new patient and she recommended several doctors Craig might contact.

Craig continued to experience frustrations over George's financial matters. George's Social Security checks were not being mailed to Craig on a regular schedule, so he contacted the postmaster. She explained she was removing George's mail from his box each day and holding it until she "got enough." Once a large mailing envelope was full she would send it. Craig told her he needed the mail forwarded more often so she suggested Craig complete a change of address form, which he could get at his local post office to mitigate the problem. Once Craig picked up the form, filled it out and returned it to the post office, the mail arrived on a regular schedule.

The hospital case worker called Craig one morning, but he was not available so the call went to voice mail. When he returned to his office he returned the call to the case worker and was told George was back in the medical unit. He was dehydrated and not eating well. Craig was concerned that this latest setback would postpone George's discharge from the hospital, but the case worker did not think the discharge plan needed to be changed. The case worker asked about George's glasses and Craig told her he did not have them, but he would look for them the next time he went to George's house.

Craig and Laura drove up to George's house on Saturday to move some of George's furnishings to their homes. Craig did find a pair of George's glasses. George's brother stopped by the house and told Craig he had visited George last week and had given him "some money" and had paid his phone bill. Craig was perplexed as to why he would do either. Craig gave George money when he asked for it and he had already terminated the phone service months ago. Craig had no interest in prolonging the discussion about anything involving George. For some strange reason, George's brother was pissed off because Craig was selling the Cadillac, but Craig told him, "I'm selling it because daddy will never drive again, I don't need it, and I don't plan on asking you to do another dam thing for my father." "I am still at a loss to try to understand why you towed the Olds to the salvage yard, then had the car towed back to the house." George's brother did not respond, but walked to his car, got in and drove away. The next time Craig saw him was at George's funeral. Before leaving town Craig stopped by Bert's antique store to discuss removing the remainder of the contents of George's house. Bert told Craig he would clean up the inside of the house in exchange for any remaining items and also pay Craig $300.00. Craig accepted the generous offer and Bert wrote a check immediately. Before Craig left town he tried to contact the case worker at the hospital to check on George's medical condition but she was not available. He called her again when he returned home and she said "all is well with George" and they scheduled next Wednesday as the day for George to be discharged.

On March 3, 1993, George was discharged from the hospital, but before he could be discharged Craig was summoned to the business office. He was presented with a bill of $37,000 for services rendered for George. They told Craig liens had been placed on all of George's property in an effort to help recover some or all of George's expenses. Craig told the officer as soon as he received the money from the impending sale of the store he would mail a check and he would to pay the remaining balance as soon as he sold the house and the lots. Craig went back to the nurses' station near George's room to tell the shift nurse he needed some assistance getting George to his car.

Within fifteen minutes Craig and George were driving away from the hospital to the Rose Nursing Home approximately 10 miles from Craig's house. When they arrived at The Rose Nursing Home Craig helped George out of the car, then his gathered his belongings and together they walked into the lobby. George sat down and waited while Craig alerted the office staff of their arrival. After the required paperwork was completed an employee escorted Craig and George down the hall to a bright, appropriately furnished room. The Rose Nursing Home had opened recently so everything was fresh and clean. After Craig got George's belongings stored in the cabinets and closets he sat for a while, and then told George he was leaving but he would drop by in a few days to check on him. He told George if he needed anything before his next visit to ask the nurse to call him.

Laura came to see George the next day and brought him some new clothes. She reported to Craig that he seemed confused about where he was, but she was told by the shift nurse "that was normal." Craig dropped by after work and brought George his radio and some toiletries.

On March 10, 1993, Craig received a check for $10,000.00 from the sale of George's store. He deposited the check then promptly wrote a check for $10,000.00 toward the balance of $37,000.00 owed to the hospital. He still owed $27,000.00 and hoped to be able to pay the balance once he sold George's house and the lots.

Hardly a day went by without Craig having to attend to George's financial matters. On March 11, 1993, Craig called George's insurance agent to cancel his auto insurance policy. He wrote checks to pay the annual property taxes on George's house, store, and lots. He wrote checks to several local business owners where George had made some purchases on credit.

On March 12, 1993, Craig went by to see George on the way home from work. George asked, "How is mama (George's wife) doing?" Craig told him, "don't you remember she died in 1990." "Well, nobody told me, this is the first I have heard of it," George replied. Craig asked George what he had been doing and "nothing," was his reply. When he asked George whether or not he had attended any of the activities The Rose Nursing Home provided George did not know what Craig was talking about. Craig asked the shift nurse how George was supposed to get to the activities and was told, "Someone will come and get him." Two days later Craig went to see George at lunchtime and found him enjoying a performance by some Girl Scouts singing in the halls.

On March 22, 1993, Craig received a call from the facility social worker informing him that George had missed a mental health appointment. Craig asked how was George supposed to travel to the appointment and the worker replied, "I don't know, but we were not supposed to deliver him." Craig asked how was he was to know about the appointment and received no reply to the question. After he hung up he immediately called mental health and got an appointment for George for the next Tuesday. When Craig got home from work he found an envelope in the mail containing George's house key so he assumed Bert had finished cleaning house and removing the remaining contents.

On April 4, 1993, Laura brought her family to visit George to celebrate his birthday. Craig also came and brought a cake and ice cream, two of George's favorite sweets. George seemed genuinely pleased that everyone came to see him on his birthday. When Craig left he spoke to the shift nurse and she told him George continued to be verbally abusive not only to other residents, but to staff. She mentioned that George thought the whole facility belonged to him. Craig said he would talk with George on his next visit and try to get him to understand that his room was his private space and all other space in the facility was shared by all the residents.

On April 9, 1993, Craig got a call the next morning from the shift nurse at the facility that George had swollen feet and a purple scrotum. She indicated they were contacting the EMT's to have him transported to the local hospital. He called the hospital several hours later but could not get any information so he left work at about 2:00pm and drove to the hospital. When he arrived George was sleeping. He spoke to the nurse on duty and was told they were trying to get George's fluid down. Craig returned to the hospital for the next several days but there were no real changes.

On April 13, 1993, when Craig arrived at the hospital George was not in his room and when he asked where he was he was told he was in intensive care. Craig panicked and asked why he had not been notified, but received no answer. The nurse did tell him that preliminary blood tests indicated a possible heart attack. Craig remained for several more hours, but never got to speak with the doctor and finally after the nurse told him "things seemed under control," Craig went home, still confused as to why he was not contacted about George's heart attack.

On April 14, 1993, a nurse called and told Craig, "We almost lost him." She said George was very weak and might not pull through so she wanted to know what to do if George's heart stopped. Craig told her to "let him sleep, if it's time, it's time." Before going to the hospital Craig called Laura to share the latest information on their father and suggested she might want to come to the hospital. When Craig arrived the doctor was on the hall so he provided a medical update. He told Craig he had adjusted the medications for his heart attack and George seemed to be responding, but he was still "not out of the water."

On April 15, 1993, the doctor called Craig from the hospital to tell him George was scheduled to see a cardiologist the next day to access whether or not it was feasible to insert a pacemaker. Craig drove to The Rose Nursing Home later in the day to see George, but when he got to his room he found him asleep. The doctor called Craig the following day to tell him the cardiologist had decided not to insert a pacemaker.

On April 18, 1993, Craig took a dozen peanut butter cookies to the hospital for George and he ate the entire dozen. The next week Craig called the hospital to find out when George would be discharged, but the nurse did not know, but would try to find out. Within 30 minutes the nurse called and told Craig he father could be discharged soon, but The Rose Nursing Home was refusing to readmit him. The Rose Nursing Home director told the hospital nurse that he had been verbally abusive therefore he could not return. Craig called The Rose Nursing Home to corroborate their refusal to take George back and the director confirmed what Craig had been told by the hospital nurse. When George was transported to the hospital The Rose Nursing Home staff had mentioned nothing to Craig about not allowing him to return. Craig returned to square one to identify another nursing home that was willing to take George. Craig placed a call to The Butler Nursing Home in another city and was able to secure a bed for George.

On April 27, 1993, Craig went to The Butler Nursing Home and signed all the paperwork to have George moved from the hospital. The next day George was discharged from the hospital and transported to the Butler Nursing Home without any further complications.

The next day Craig purchased an irrevocable burial contract for George from a local funeral home. He bought George some new clothes and took them to The Butler Nursing Home. George was sitting in the hall and in a much better frame of mind than Craig had seen him in a while.

On April 30, 1993, Craig drove to Anvil to purchase a headstone, and then he drove to D.S.S. to get some help on completing George's Medicaid application. He went by George's house and found it had been cleaned out and was now ready to be sold.

On May 9, 1993, Craig and his family traveled to see George and found him walking down the hall with no apparent issues. He smiled as he saw everyone and they all went to a lounge area and had a pleasant visit. Craig left feeling very confident that this latest placement was going to work and for the time being George was in as good a physical and mental shape as he had been in a while. With around the clock care George should have his needs met for the remainder of his life and hopefully Craig would not have to move him again. The twists and turns on this journey had not been easy to maneuver.

On May 19, 1993, Craig received a status report from George's care team. He was advised to expect such meetings once per quarter with extra meetings to be called if George returned from any hospital stay. George was being moved to a new room because he had been verbally abusive to his roommate and had allegedly been "taking some of his roommate's things." Alzheimer's patients in both of the nursing homes George had lived in were assigned rooms with regular patients. The team informed Craig that George did not care to attend any activities for the residents, but they mentioned no efforts they made to get him to participate. They revealed George liked to read the newspapers and they tried to get a copy for him each morning. George reacted well to the junior volunteers and they had been successful getting him to sing. The staff added that when George endeavored to return to his room he had difficulty locating his room and would often wander into other resident's rooms enquiring as to why they were in his room. The nutritionists reported that George's weight was the same as when he was admitted and their goal was to help him maintain that weight. They concluded the meeting by disclosing that George did not sleep very long during the evening hours and continued to be verbally abusive and often made sexual innuendoes at times to the staff. They were more concerned about his verbal assaults toward the residents than those directed at their staff and they hoped somehow these verbal attacks could be mitigated, but offered no professional suggestions as to how to remedy the situation. Craig left the meeting thinking this staff had no solutions to George's verbal abuse because they had no one qualified to effectively work with Alzheimer's patients. Craig's "reading between the lines" assessment that George was not a nice person, was verbally abusive, took things from residents, couldn't find his way back to his room and was generally a pain in the ass and they were tired of putting up with his crazy shit. Craig knew the person they were referring to was not George, this disease had seized his mind and there seemed to be little sympathy or understanding from the staff for his condition.

A few days after the meeting with The Butler Nursing Home staff Craig received confirmation that George had been approved for Medicaid. George would be allowed to keep $25.00 per month of his Social Security check with the remaining amount going to The Rose Nursing Home to offset the costs of care by Medicaid. His bank balance could never exceed $1,500.00; if it did the monthly Medicaid coverage would be reduced. His bank account could be used for incidentals and Craig planned to use some of the money to purchase George new clothes. Craig seldom found the new clothes in George's closet he had purchased; instead there were other clothes he had never seen. He wrote George's name in large letters with a permanent marker in all the clothes he purchased, but once the clothes were picked up to be laundered they were seldom returned to George's room. Craig became so frustrated he met with the facility administrator to address the issue and she quickly admitted some of her staff "stole" resident's clothes and there was simply nothing, nothing in this world, she could do about it. Craig continued to buy George new clothes whenever he wanted because he enjoyed watching George open the bags and holding up his new clothes. He always responded, "That's mighty nice ain't it?"

On May 25, 1993, Craig received a call from the shift nurse at The Butler Nursing Home that George had fallen in the hall, but he was not hurt. The staff had assisted him back to his room and he seemed to be "OK." The nurse also reported that George had fallen "off the stool" in the shower room the previous day, but that he was "OK." Craig was puzzled as to why they didn't inform him about that fall. The nurse explained that George's Lasik, the medication to help remove excess fluid, had been adjusted to 20 milligrams per day. She closed by saying that George had an appointment at the mental health clinic on June 9, 1993, and that Craig would need to see to it that George made the appointment.

On May 29, 1993, the realtor called Craig with an offer of $18,000 for George's house, but suggested that he hold out for at least $20,000. The realtor also noted that he had several inquiries on the lots but there were no offers yet. Two days later the realtor called to tell Craig the interested buyers had agreed to purchase George's house for $20,000, but they would like to pay the amount in four equal installments of $5,000 each plus they wanted the 1978 Olds. Craig agreed to the terms as delineated as he wanted closure on this property. The realtor said he would relay the message to the prospective buyers and unless other issues arose he expected to have the closing done within 6-8 weeks.

On June 9, 1993, Craig drove George to his appointment at the local mental health clinic. Nothing much was accomplished other than the staff reported they intended to "look at some things," and "please fill out these forms," and "make a follow up appointment when you check out." After Craig took George back to The Butler Nursing Home he returned to his office. He notified Turner State Hospital business office that he had an offer of $20,000 on George's house and would send the money as soon as the sale was completed.

On June 12, 1993, Craig received a call at 8:45pm from The Butler Nursing Home that George had fallen again and was complaining of severe pain in his hip. The emergency medical team had been called to transport him to the regional hospital. Craig drove to the hospital to await the arrival of George on the EMT transport. Before he left the house he called Laura to alert her of the accident and she said would drive directly the hospital as soon as she could. Craig was at the emergency room entrance when the transport arrived at twelve midnight. George was writhing in pain as they lowered him from the vehicle. The EMTs told Craig they were sorry it took so long to get there, but they had been extremely busy that night. Craig waited with George in one of the examining areas for an emergency room doctor. It took about 30 more minutes before a doctor appeared. After examining George the doctor said they would need to operate to insert a pin in his hip. They would monitor George's pain through the remainder of the night and plan to operate the next day. Craig remained at the hospital until 4:00am, then went home to rest and wait for a call regarding the operation time.

Craig did not go to work the next morning and by 9:00am he still had no call from the hospital. Craig called the hospital and was told George was currently in surgery. Laura arrived at Craig's house at 11:00am and the two of them drove to the hospital. They waited for hours before they were allowed to see their father and when they were finally permitted to see him they observed he was doing well considering his ordeal.

On June 14, 1993, Craig and Laura went by to see their father before he went to work and Laura returned home. On June 15, 1993, the hospital staff told Craig George was doing as well as could be expected and should be able to return to The Butler Nursing Home by the following Monday. By June 21, 1993, George was back at The Butler Nursing Home and things were calm for now.

On June 22, 1993, the realtor called Craig to ask if it was alright if the buyers were allowed to enter the house to "check out things." Craig thought this was a reasonable request so he gave his approval. A week later the realtor called and said the buyers wanted to survey the house lot and wondered if Craig would be willing to split the cost of the surveying. Since Craig did not want this sale to fall through for any reason he agreed and told the realtor he would send a check to cover his part of the survey cost. On July 16, 1993, the realtor called to inform Craig that three people were "living" in George's house. The realtor mentioned that perhaps the prospective buyers believed "check out things" really meant "moving in." He told Craig he understood they had purchased homeowners insurance and Craig was flummoxed as to how they could purchase insurance on a house they did not yet own. The realtor said he'd "get back" to Craig as soon as he knew more. By July 19, 1993, Craig received the closing papers for the house, which he signed and returned to the realtor. On July 23, 1993, the realtor called and told Craig all the papers had been signed and the house had been officially sold! The realtor had a check for $5,000, which was the first installment the new owners agreed to pay. The remaining $15,000 would be paid in $5,000 increments every three months until the entire amount of $20,000 was paid. Craig mailed a check he paid out of George's checking account to cover the real estate commission.

On July 26, 1993, the shift nurse called to tell Craig they were talking George to the regional hospital for a follow up appointment regarding his hip surgery.

On August 12, 1993, Craig visited George at The Butler Nursing Home. He took George's cassette tape recorder and his favorite big band tapes. He had given the recorder to George as a Christmas present a few years back and through the years he purchased several big band tapes for George to use with the recorder. Craig talked to the nurse and she told him George would still not walk on his own, but the staff got him up several times per day and made him walk up and down the hall. According to the nurse George was very reluctant to walk and had rather lay in bed. George complained he could not find his socks so Craig asked a nurses' aide about the socks and she said they were "probably still in the laundry. " George asked Craig about a TV and Craig told him he would he see about getting him one with a remote control.

On August 15, 1993, Craig got a call from The Butler Nursing Home that at approximately 4:00pm George had gotten in a fight with his roommate who accused George of "going into his things." George received a black eye and a scratch on his nose. The man's family was called and informed of what had happened and if it "happened again" the family would have to move him to another facility. If it "happened again," "Oh," thought Craig, "you get two strikes there and THEN you are out." The guidelines for admission and retention seemed to change as often as the weather. A patient could get moved or kicked out of the home if they were verbally abusive, but if there was a physical assault then a resident got a second chance. Craig requested George be moved to another room as soon as one was available. He was concerned that George had been assaulted, yet no punishment had been issued to his roommate. Craig knew he was out of nursing home options close to home and if he elected to choose a new facility it would be further away and he would see George less often. Things were not getting any easier.

On August 20, 1993, Craig called The Butler Nursing Home to check on George and was told he was Ok. The shift nurse said George was scheduled for an eye exam that week. On August 27, 1933, Craig received a call from the nurse on duty that George had fallen out of a chair and they were taking him to the doctor to get checked out. The nurse called Craig back later in the day to inform him that the doctor examined George and found that he was not injured from the fall.

On September 4, 1993, Craig and his family visited George. They found him to be in good spirits as he consumed some cookies and nuts they brought. He was complaining that he could not find his watch, his glasses, or some of his pictures. Craig searched the room but found none of the items, so he informed the nurse and she said nothing. When Craig left he gave George a hug and told him he loved him and George repeated the sentiment, which was the first time Craig had ever heard George tell him he loved him.

On September 13, 1993, Craig attended a "families" meeting for all who had loved ones at the facility. Attendants listened to a presentation followed by a question and answer session. Craig had no questions. Next they showed a film on Alzheimer's disease which Craig found to be of benefit since most of what was presented related to either where George had been or where he currently was. Unfortunately the staff at The Butler Nursing Home had no idea how to care for residents suffering with Alzheimer's. Before Craig left The Butler Nursing Home he stopped by to see George and he was in his usual location, his bed. Craig had some Oreo cookies he had bought and George ate most of the bag.

On September 17, 1993, Craig received a call from The Butler Nursing Home informing him that George's monthly charges were being lowered to compensate for some of his Medicaid allowance spent on prescriptions. The normal monthly charge of $671.00 per month would be reinstated the following month.

On September 26, 1993, Craig visited George and took him some nuts, cheese crackers, cookies, and some new batteries for his cassette recorder. The nurse told Craig George was making some progress walking with some assistance. Craig bought a takeout lunch so he could eat lunch with George while he consumed his tray from the cafeteria. Craig left to return to work after an hour visit. George's roommate was in and out of the room while Craig was visiting. Craig did not like the man, but until a new roommate was assigned there wasn't much he could do but keep his fingers crossed there would be no further altercations.

On October 4, 1993, Craig received a call from the night shift nurse that George had been "run over" and "knocked down" on the way to the bathroom by his roommate. The nurse said George was Ok, but that Craig should call the administrator in the morning to discuss the matter.

On October 5, 1993, Craig called the administrator to ask what was being done about the second assault on George. She told Craig that they would be "talking to the two men soon, "and that they were hiring a new activities coordinator and she would have the new coordinator work on getting the roommates "more involved" in the various activities they expected to have someday. Craig told her he was not satisfied with her action plan and stated emphatically that he wanted a new roommate assignment for his father. She stated that sometimes it was hard to find another resident who would "agree" to take on a new roommate. Craig asked her, "Who agreed to the current placement, my father certainly did not!" He received no answer to his question. He reminded her that the assault was not the first but the second assault on George and she had taken no action to solve the problem. Craig ended his call by stating he did not want George to continue live there if he had to fear for his safety. He was holding the administrator fully accountable to ensure there would no more physical attacks on George by this man or anyone else in The Butler Nursing Home. At 2:15pm Craig received a call from The Butler Nursing Home administrator informing him that George's roommate was being moved as soon as they contacted the man's family. Craig hung up and wondered just how long it would take to make that phone call.

On October 7, 1993, Craig attended a care team meeting to discuss George's condition. Craig met the new, unimpressive, activity coordinator who vowed to get George "more involved" in organized activities. The team reported that George was eating most of his food and had actually lost 7 pounds and was down to 153 pounds. The podiatrist had trimmed his toe nails which didn't sound like a fun task. He had been seen by a physical therapist and also had a dental appointment scheduled later that week. The team concluded the meeting by informing Craig that George's new roommate would be moved in by the end of the week which was good news. After the session Craig took some warmer clothes by George's room as the weather was turning colder. After he hung up George's clothes he decided he needed to get George some new sweat pants for they were warm and easy to put on. When Craig left George was in good spirits and once again Craig felt the roommate crisis was over.

On October 25, 1993, Craig took George some new sweat pants and shirts along with some peanut butter cookies his wife had made. When Craig got to George's hall he noticed George sitting in a wheel chair at the nurse's station. The nurse told Craig George was walking some, but used the wheel chair when he was tired. She also told him that George's new roommate was thus far "a good fit."

On Halloween, October 31, 1993, Craig took his family to visit George. George was able to walk from his room to the sitting room near the front of the facility. He chatted with Craig's wife and children for most of an hour. He consumed almost all of the Halloween cookies the kids had made for him. After about an hour Craig walked with George down to his room and bid him goodbye.

Throughout the month of November, 1993, Craig's visits to George were pleasant. There were no new medical complications, no additional reports of any altercations involving other residents, and George appeared to be as satisfied as was possible.

Each year after Thanksgiving a town near Charlotte, North Carolina prepares a variety of Christmas displays that people travel great distances to witness. The lines of traffic are as far as the eye can see for it is a big pre Christmas event. Each year The Butler Nursing Home had provided a bus to take residents and family members to see the Christmas displays. On the return trip the participants were taken to a restaurant for dinner. Craig had planned to go with George, sort of a father and son outing, but when Craig got to the facility he found George was not dressed to go, but lying in his bed. George told Craig he did not feel good and did not want to take the trip. Craig asked George did anything hurt and George replied that his knees hurt so on the way out Craig stopped by the nurse's station and told the shift nurse about the pain George was experiencing. He also told the nurse that George appeared to be a little "down," The nurse checked his chart and mentioned that he was still receiving the Zoloft, but not to worry as she would keep a "watch on the situation."

On December 18, 1993, Craig took his son to a college basketball game while Craig's wife drove her daughter and Laura to see George. Two days later Craig took a plant given by his employees to George and set it on a small table near one of the windows. George was sitting in a chair in his room when Craig arrived and he complained about back pain again and told Craig the nurses would not let him lie down. George complained about his back to every staff member who came into his room, but their response was the same, "the doctor's orders are for you to sit up for a substantial part of the day."

On December 25, 1993, Christmas Day, Craig took his family to see George. He opened his gifts and thanked everyone for each gift he opened. He ate some sweets, but not as much as he normally consumed. After about an hour Craig drove his family home to begin their traditional Christmas activities. George was clean, warm, satiated, had his required medications, and was loved on that Christmas day in 1993. Upon leaving Craig wondered how many more Christmas holidays George would experience, but today was a good one and that was the memory Craig wanted to treasure. On the way back home Craig had flashbacks of Christmases past when he was a kid growing up in that big house with his family.

On January 18, 1994, Craig received a letter from the realtor stating he had on offer of $7,000 for George's three lots. Craig immediately called the realtor and told him he would accept the offer. The transaction was completed and on April 4, 1994 Craig received a final check for the last property George would ever own. Craig made a deposit to George's account and wrote a check for the remaining balance owed to Turner State Hospital plus another check to cover the realtor's commission.

On February 13, 1994, Craig took a Valentine's Day card and some cookies to George. It seemed every time Craig visited George he found him in the bed. George ate some of the cookies and chatted briefly with Craig. The topics of conversation between George and Craig were the same as many other visits. George asked Craig if he had seen mama (his wife) and Craig would explain to him she had been dead for five years. George's response was the same, "well, this is the first I've heard of this, no one told me about this." George would ask about his father and Craig would repeat that his father had been dead since 1965.

On April 7, 1994, Craig attended a care team meeting. The team told Craig George's overall condition was "stable." Craig left feeling optimistic about the report.

On April 13, 1994, Craig delivered a new 13 inch color TV to George's room. He explained how to use the remote and hoped George would remember how to operate the controls.

On April 15, 1994, Craig received a letter from the home buyers regarding the 1978 Olds. As part of the sale of the house Craig had agreed to give the buyers the car, but had yet to finalize the transaction. He was still responsible for the car since the title was still in George's name and he was power of attorney. They wanted Craig to immediately transfer ownership of the vehicle to them citing it was part of the original agreement. He wished he had declared the car junk and had it towed to a salvage dealer as he had earlier intended. If George's dam brother had left the Olds at the junk yard in the first place this problem would not have continued. The next day Craig called the D.M.V. and requested a new title be printed and mailed to him. When the title arrived he took a day off to deliver the title to the owners in Anvil. By the time Craig arrived the owners had already located a notary public office. Craig followed the owners to the office, signed over the title and promptly returned home.

On May 4, 1994, Craig drove to The Butler Nursing Home to visit his dad and found him in bed complaining of pain in his knees. George did not have his TV on and when the nurse came by Craig asked her if was George watching his TV and she said he did if one of the attendants turned the set on for him, otherwise he never turned it on himself. Craig was concerned that George was not wearing any of his clothes he had recently purchased and none of his clothes were in his closet. Craig presumed the staff was continuing to steal his clothes as fast as he could pull them out of the bag and hang them up. It was a pathetic situation to buy clothes for a loved one, and then never see the clothes again.

On May 20, 1994, Craig visited George and again found him in bed, but this time he was watching his TV. Craig had George sign forms for a direct deposit of his Social Security check after explaining why this would be better for the both of them. Craig could not find any of George's new clothes, but he vowed to continue the purchases. Before Craig left George asked about his wife and father again and Craig told him once again they had passed away years ago.

On June 19, 1994, Father's Day, Craig took the family to see George and found him again in bed but in good spirits. The conversations were pleasant and George's questions about his wife and father were asked and Craig provided the same answers as always, they were dead.

On June 22, 1994, Craig went by to see George and he was in bed with the volume on the TV at maximum level. George asked about his wife and his father and this time he added a new family member, his mother. Craig told him they had been dead for many years.

On July 7, 1994, Craig attended a care team review and their summary at that point was as good as Craig could expect.

On August 12, 1994, Craig went to see George and the visit was a carbon copy of recent visits. On September 16, 1994, Craig visited George and it was a good visit.

On October 10, 1994, Craig received a call from The Butler Nursing Home staff to say that George had fallen but he was not injured. On October 12, 1994, Craig went to check on George and found him in bed watching his TV. Craig asked about his fall and George did not know what he was talking about. Craig asked him before he left if he was experiencing any pain and George's reply was no.

On October 26, 1994, Craig attended another care team parley and received a good report on his father. George had gained some weight back. He was walking without help and sometimes he would sit in his wheel chair and talk to other patients as they came down the hall. The team reported that George was now eating some of his meals in the dining room which reinforced earlier comments about his increasing social interactions with staff and residents. Craig left the meeting to buy George some new clothes; with the recent weight gain his current outfits were too tight. He returned to the facility with the new purchases and held up each new item of clothing for George to see so Craig could hear him say, "That's mighty nice." When Craig left he figured he would never see any of those clothes on George, so he had him put on a new sweatshirt before he departed.

On November 9, 1994, Craig went by The Butler Nursing Home to check on George and found him to be Ok.

On November 24, 1994, Thanksgiving Day, Craig took his family along with Laura and some of her family out to eat before going to The Butler Nursing Home. Once they got to the nursing home they found George to be doing well and in good spirits. They all left feeling pretty good about his status.

On December 24, 1994, Christmas Eve, Craig and his family went to see George. George was in his bed, but not complaining about anything. He liked the candy they brought and especially the watch they gave him. He always liked a nice watch and felt naked if he did not wear one. Always knowing the correct time was important to George. He spoke of a few Christmases past and Craig was amazed with how much detail he recalled from that time, but his short term memory was so lacking he could not recall what he had for breakfast. He asked Craig had he seen his wife and his parents and Craig told him again they were dead. George was with his family at Christmas time and that was all that mattered that Christmas Eve.

When the New Year began Craig's work schedule made it increasingly more difficult to have frequent visits to the nursing home, but he visited when he could. Craig visited on January 14, 1995 and found things continuing to go well. No issues were reported either by George or by the nursing home staff.

A visit on March 14, 1995, found George with a substantial weight gain. He was obviously enjoying the food, but he was walking less therefore the pounds were increasing more than he needed.

On April 2, 1995, Craig took his family to celebrate George's 80th birthday. He enjoyed the food they brought, an entrée of beef and potatoes with rolls and a large slice of sweet potato pie. Craig left concerned as usual because the new clothes he bought recently were missing as was the watch he bought George for Christmas. Would the stealing ever cease? Probably not.

On April 16, 1995, Craig took the family to visit George. They took some cupcakes and candy, but George did not touch either opting to "eat them later."

On April 20, 1995, the nursing staff alerted Craig that George's watch had been found so Craig bought a new watchband and took it to the nursing home. George was pleased to have his watch and appreciated the new watchband. Craig also unwrapped two new shirts and a pair of sweatpants and presented them to George. He wrote George's name in the garments, but he expected those clothes would soon vanish like all the others.

On April 21, 1995, after returning home from taking his family out to dinner Craig noticed the voice mail light blinking on his phone. He pushed the button and listened to the message. The caller said the toes on George's right foot had turned blue and he was experiencing poor circulation from the knee down. They were transporting him immediately to the hospital emergency room. By the time Craig was in contact with the hospital emergency room he was informed that George had been transported back to The Butler Nursing Home. He called the nursing home and talked to the shift nurse. She told Craig the doctor had put George on two medicines to control clotting and his circulation "seemed to return" as his toes were no longer blue. It was now 10:30pm and Craig did not feel there was anything he could do so he elected to wait until the next morning before going to the Rose nursing home.

On April 22, 1995, Craig went to the nursing home and found George lying in bed. George was not aware of any of the events of the previous night. Craig looked at George's right leg and asked George to pick his leg up and move his right foot and toes, which he was able to do. Craig pulled George's right pants leg up and his leg was of normal coloring. Before he departed Craig spoke to the shift nurse, but she had no additional information. She repeated that the doctor's order for two medicines to control the clotting was being administered. Craig left and drove to work.

On April 25, 1995, Craig received a call at about 3:00pm from The Butler Nursing Home that they were transporting George to the regional hospital because his right leg and foot were blue again. Craig called Laura and explained the latest situation. She indicated she would try to drive to Craig's house the next morning. Later that evening after George had been admitted and was in a room Craig drove over to see George. He managed to speak to George's doctor before he left the hall and he told Craig that George had no blood flow in his right leg and he recommended that to prolong George's life they would need to amputate his right leg from the knee down. Craig did not want or need to hear this news. "How much longer will this surgery prolong my father's life?" Craig asked. The doctor told him "about six weeks." Craig went home and found Laura had arrived so he discussed the options with her. They both slept on this gut wrenching decision and the next morning they both agreed, George's best chance for prolonged life was to have the surgery. Craig called the hospital early and left a message for the doctor to call him as soon as he arrived at the hospital. The doctor returned Craig's call about 9:00am. Craig instructed the doctor to proceed with the surgery. The doctor told Craig that they wanted to try to remove a clot to improve George's blood flow to his leg and foot. Later that morning the doctor called Craig and told him they were successful in improving the blood flow to the lower extremities, but now George had swelling in his groin and thigh area so they were going to try to relieve that. The doctor went on to say if they were successful in reducing the swelling it would still be best to amputate his right leg below the knee. There was a pause in the phone conversation before Craig responded with, "you have our permission to proceed with the amputation." The plan then would be first, to reduce the swelling in the thigh and groin area then perform the surgery the next day.

On April 27, 1995, Craig received a call from the hospital informing him that George had a restful night, the swelling was down, and the plan was to perform the surgery at approximately 9:00am the next morning and he needed to come to the hospital to sign the authorization papers for the surgery. Once Craig and Laura arrived at the hospital they went to the nurse's station and signed the papers before going to George's room. Their father was awake and was confused as to where he was and why. Craig explained to him about the clots in his right leg and that the doctor thought it was necessary to remove part of his right leg. George clearly did not understand this and repeatedly asked Craig what he meant by, "removing my leg." Craig tried to explain the surgery to George, but it was futile. When the doctor came to the room Craig and Laura excused themselves to speak with him in private. The doctor told them that the surgery would take about two hours and there was a good chance that George would not survive the operation. Craig thought to himself that this doctor did not know George. He had been through many traumatic episodes over his life and Craig felt confident that George would survive the surgery.

Craig and Laura walked to the waiting room and sat until the surgery was over. The surgery took longer than expected and it was after 1:00pm before the attending surgeon entered the waiting room. The doctor informed them that the surgery was successful and their father would remain in the recovery room until he was stable. The doctor told them George was given some powerful pain medicine so when they were allowed to visit he might not be coherent. They decided to return to Craig's house, get some needed rest, and return later that afternoon. They returned to see George at 4:00pm, but since he was very drowsy they left at 5:00pm.

On April 28, 1995, Laura returned home while Craig went to the hospital and stayed for a few hours. The next day Craig went to see George once in the morning before going to work and once in the afternoon after work. George seemed to be doing as well as could be expected.

On May 2, 1995, George was scheduled to be discharged from the regional hospital, but since nursing home beds could not be held for patients while they are in hospitals, George was once again, without a home to go to. The hospital social worker tried to get George readmitted to The Rose Nursing Home which was close to Craig's house. Craig provided the social worker with a brief history of George's stay at that nursing home. She felt given George's current condition he would remain forever confined to a bed so perhaps The Rose Nursing Home officials might agree to take him. The social worker called the facility, but they still would not take George back, sons of bitches! Craig really wanted George to be close to his house, but the administrator told the social worker "we are not taking him because of his previous record." The social worker then called The Butler Nursing Home George had most recently been in and they agreed to readmit George, but they cautioned he would have a new roommate.

On May 5, 1995, Craig drove over to check on George and deliver some new clothes. He found George to be more "with it" and they had a nice chat, but George was not aware that his right leg from the knee down was missing. He seemed to be amenable to just lying in his bed, talking and watching TV.

On May 12, 1995, Craig took the family to see George before going out of town for the weekend. When they got to George's room he was laboring with his breathing and Craig noticed there was a crackling noise in his chest. Craig summoned the nurse and requested she listen to George's chest with her stethoscope. The nurse reported that his chest was clear. "Clear?" Craig asked, "How can you say it's clear when I can stand here by his bed and hear a crackling sound in his chest?" The nurse went to get another nurse to listen to George's chest. The second nurse did indeed hear the same crackling noise Craig had heard. She told Craig that George's doctor was out of down, but if he wanted she would speak to the doctor on call. Craig asked her to call that doctor. Craig went with the nurse to the nurse's station and waited for her to make the call. Once she explained to the doctor what was going on she gave the phone to Craig. The doctor told Craig he could have George transported to the hospital, but he doubted George would be any better off there than the nursing home. Craig paused to consider the option the doctor proposed until the doctor finally asked, "What do you want me to do?" Craig told him he wanted him to make George comfortable. The doctor ordered the nurse to administer IV fluids and an antibiotic. Craig and his family remained in the room until George was comfortable. They decided to postpone their trip and return home for the evening. If George was better the next day perhaps they would continue on their way and salvage the remainder of the weekend.

On May 13, 1995, Craig called the nursing home to check on George's status. The nurse told him that he was doing "no worse." Within two hours the nurse called back and told Craig they were taking George to the hospital. When Craig got to the hospital he found they were administering an IV and were giving him an antibiotic, which was the same thing they were doing night before at the nursing home. Since there was nothing Craig could do he decided to continue with the family plans, but they would drop by on the way back home on Sunday.

On May 14, 1995, Craig and the family stopped by to see George on the way home. He was alert after having just finished eating dinner and appeared to be comfortable. When Craig returned home he called Laura with an update on George. The next day Craig returned to see George, but there were no changes.

On May 19, 1995, when Craig got to the hospital he found George had been moved out of the Critical Care Unit to a regular hospital room. Craig talked to the hospital social worker and she told him George had an enlarged prostate which created complications when George needed to pee. She said they could "operate" to remove his prostate, but since he recently had surgery this was not feasible. She said George's kidneys were not functioning at 100%. She hoped to be able to get him admitted to The Rose Nursing Home close to Craig's home when he was discharged, but Craig reminded her that was not possible. Laura called that night and indicated she might come to see their father next weekend.

On May 20, 1995, after attending a wedding of an employee's daughter Craig went by the hospital to see George. When Craig entered the room George was yelling at the nurse, "Take this dam tube out of my nose!" Craig noticed that George was not hooked up to an IV. George had little to say to Craig, so after about 30 minutes Craig drove home.

On May 24, 1995, Craig called the hospital social worker to find out if she had identified a nursing home to have George admitted. She told Craig she had tried to again to get The Rose Nursing Home closest to his home to take George, but they still refused to take him.

On May 25, 1995, Craig and a co-worker visited George and found him lying in his bed complaining that his right foot was hurting. The nurse told Craig it was probably "fantasy pain." She mentioned that the social worker had gotten George readmitted to his previous nursing home as soon as a bed came available. Craig was beginning to sense that George's journey was coming to an end.

On June 2, 1995, Craig went to see George, but found him very unresponsive. George would doze off, wake up, doze off, wake up, and then doze off again. One time when Craig was there and George woke up he would pan the room until he spotted Craig, and then he would go back to sleep. One time when he woke up he turned to Craig and said, "I'm tired of this." Craig said, "I know."

On June 5, 1995, Craig went to the hospital, but George was not responsive at all. This was not getting any easier, seeing George lying there waiting to die.

On June 6, 1995, the social worker called Craig at work and told him George was not doing well at all and perhaps he might want to come soon. Craig arrived at the hospital within the hour and stayed by George's bed for about an hour. George continued to be in and out of napping. He would wake up, look around and a few times he looked directly at Craig and tried to say something, but it was unintelligible. Craig left and went home knowing he had seen his father for the last time. His last goodbyes had been said and he would go home and wait for the last call. When he arrived home he called Laura to inform her of the situation. She seemed hesitant to want to drive to the hospital so she asked Craig if he thought she should come. He told her he couldn't make that decision for her, she would have to do what she thought best for her, and then he hung up the phone and mixed a drink. Within the hour Laura called and told him she was coming and planned on spending the night at the hospital. Craig was pleased with her decision and felt it was the right thing for her to do. After their mother died in 1990 Craig's sister brought George to live at her house, but the arrangement was doomed from the start. Their father lived there for six weeks before returning home. He simply did not want to give up his independence and live under someone else's roof. Craig had always appreciated Laura's willingness to let George live at her house. At the end it would be George and his oldest daughter together, but Craig would remain at home.

On June 6, 1995, at approximately 11:00pm Craig received a call from the shift nurse to inform Craig that George had passed away. The nurse expressed her condolences and then gave the phone to Laura. She told Craig that their father passed calmly, experiencing no pain at the end. Craig elected to go to the hospital to drive Laura back to his house rather than having her drive back alone. When Craig got to the hospital he saw Laura just outside a side entrance near the parking area smoking a cigarette. He approached her and they embraced, cried together, and said they loved each other. After they got home that night they stayed up until 3:00am discussing their lives with their parents. Now Craig and Laura were nobody's children.

George's journey was finished. Craig believed he did the best he could caring for his father. Craig would never know why George had Alzheimer's disease and believed there could be no worse journey than to have all the good memories life has to offer taken from you. No one should have their mind tampered with.

George was cremated as he had requested and the remains were interred in the family cemetery. The headstone Craig had prepared on April 28, 1993 was delivered the following week to the cemetery. George was buried next to his wife and second child who died in 1942.

Small Town Dreamer

When you grow up in a small town you tend to think small. There are small stores because there aren't many people living in the town. There are small yards because most people are middle class and don't make enough money to afford larger yards. People buy small dogs because they tend not to eat as much. Local governments build small schools because there aren't that many children who need to attend school. When it came time for me to figure out where to attend college I was thinking small, no large state supported university for me, no, too many people, I'd never be able to meet them all. I had no interest in venturing into some far off place such as one of the adjoining states to attend college, we had a sufficient number right here for me to choose from. I sent off for catalogs to every college in the state. The ones that most appealed to me were the small colleges and those were the ones I applied to, one a two year military school and the other a small liberal arts college. At the time I was satisfied with my choices.

I can't say I was chomping at the bit when it was time to leave for college. The summer break from any school work is always met with excitement, but returning anywhere in the fall is not always greeted with the same excitement. The initial college experience can be difficult. To leave comfort and the known to embark on a new journey when you have no idea whether or not the journey is a good fit for you can present some degree of trepidation. I started out small, a small military school which I mostly hated most of the year, then I transferred to a small four year church related college in the eastern part of the state. It was there I met an interesting student and roommate to be in two years. A large part of a college experience is getting to meet many different people, that is, if you should choose to do so.

The last bag out of the car, he wondered why he packed so dam much, but this stuff was on a checklist of essentials students needed to function on campus. He was not happy being assigned to the third floor since he had to drag all of his gear to the top floor. He noticed a student with his dad unloading their car. When he finished bringing up his belongings he went back downstairs to survey the situation on campus when he bumped into Walter and his dad coming up the stairs with their hands full.

"Hi, I'm Stewart," he said.

"I'm Walter and this is my dad," he said.

"Nice to meet you, where are you from?" Stewart asked.

"Kerrsville, Kerrsville, Virginia," responded Walter.

"Where are you from Stewart?" Asked Walter.

"I'm from here, err, North Carolina, a small town about forty five miles west of here," said Stewart.

"Is your roommate here yet?" Asked Walter.

"No, he's supposed to arrive tomorrow," said Stewart.

"How about yours Walter, when is he coming in?" Asked Stewart.

"I don't know when he's coming we haven't communicated," said Walter.

Macon College was a beautiful school, situated among the pines on level terrain just north of Dewburg, North Carolina. The first classes were held on the new campus in 1957 and plans were in place to make Macon a strong academic institution. I was a transfer from Brentwood Military Institute, but as a transfer student at Macon I was assigned to the first year student transfer and freshman dorm. Most of the transfers I met were from larger schools and many were on academic probation at their previous school, but were given a second chance at Macon. The school was affiliated with the Methodist Church; therefore all students were required to attend weekly chapel services held on Tuesdays. Growing up being baptized in the Methodist Church posed no big problem for me in meeting this weekly requirement. We were also required to attend Sunday chapel services at Brentwood Military Institute, so I was accustomed to weekly services

I had several classes with Walter so I got to know him as a classmate, plus he also lived on the third floor. At dinner several of us would get together and walk to the school cafeteria so over time I got to know him better. There were no meal tickets; therefore we paid a flat meal fee at the beginning of the semester so we could decide to eat or not to eat. Once we got settled in and l\moved about Brentwood we found several restaurants that appealed to us. My familiarity with Kerrsville was due three aunts and uncles on my father's side living there. I was named after one of my uncles who also lived in Kerrsville. Walter and I talked often about life in Kerrsville.

As the year progressed several of us discovered a bowling alley approximately one mile from campus which became our key off campus social gathering place for the remainder of our tenure at Macon. We never went there to bowl, but only to eat. Once we discovered they had a private meeting room we asked to use it for study groups for big tests. The management was happy to allow us to use the space; after all we ordered a lot of food during our years at Macon. What might seem unusual was the time we chose to go to the bowling alley. Most nights we went very late. We normally ate a full dinner around seven, and then if we went to the library we might stop by the snack bar for a shake and fries on the way back to the dorm. At midnight or later several of us would be ready to drive to the bowling alley for more food. Breakfast was served beginning in the college cafeteria beginning at seven so before our first classes we were eating again. We were always hungry, or I was. Most of our visits to the bowling alley were for a plate of pancakes. Why late at night would we want pancakes, because we were hungry and the pancakes were good, really good!

The second year, my junior year and Walter's sophomore year we became closer and he became one of my best friends. Walter's roommate was a transfer from Duke and was very smart. We continued our same routine of eating dinner together in the school cafeteria. We frequented the movies downtown and when I wasn't driving Walter's roommate drove. Often times on the way back to campus we stopped at the bowling alley.

By spring semester of my junior year my first roommate, Dan from Rhode Island was in the process of flunking out so I had to identify another roomie. Dan brought a car back to campus that year and stayed in it more than the classroom, hence the reason for his departure from Macon. I asked Walter and he agreed to move into my room at the beginning of spring semester 1965. This arrangement worked out well as Walter's roommate preferred a room by himself.

In his sophomore year Walter decided English was to be his major so for the rest of our time rooming together the only classes we had together were World Literature and Philosophy. After rooming with Walter for a while I got very familiar with his eccentricities. I learned he was a terrible procrastinator, especially in preparing for tests. A week before a test he started talking about preparing and how much he needed to study. He continued to mention the need to study while doing very little studying until the day before the test.

I was surprised every time I returned from class and unlocked the door he was often in the room behind a locked door which I found unusual. Why would he choose to lock the door when he was in the room? I asked him about this and he said he didn't want to be disturbed while "studying." Walter would be at his desk next to the door pretending to be studying, but rarely was he studying, but he had a textbook open with a composition book of class notes beside the textbook. Inside his textbook there was usually a paperback novel he was reading instead of studying. Later when I asked about this practice and what books he was reading he mentioned the books were "things he was interested in not necessarily tied to any course." This practice continued the three semesters we roomed together.

Many late afternoons as we walked to the cafeteria for dinner Walter mentioned he planned to begin studying when he returned to the room. When we returned from dinner he sometimes studied until a normal bedtime hour, but if someone suggested a trip to the bowling alley Walter was in. By the time we returned to campus it was at least one o'clock.

He wasted so much time and didn't seem to be prepared for a test yet in our World Literature course we took together he received higher grades than I did every time! His response was always the same, "Stewart, I'm good at writing bullshit." The next test, same result, "Stewart, I'm good at writing bullshit."

During our time away from classes we talked about whatever Walter wanted to talk about. He was very interested in politics, especially the Vietnam War. During the sixties if young men didn't attend college or get occupational deferments they stood an excellent chance of being drafted. Walter was very much against the United States being in the war and kept abreast of the changing war conditions. He was also very disturbed about the ongoing racial injustices he saw in the daily news casts. He was not much of a sports fan but would on occasion watch what was billed as the "big" game.

Walter had a very large collection of 33 1/3 LP records that stretched from one end of his dresser to the other. Some evenings he would put on an instrumental as we studied. He bought most of his records in the summer with money he made from his summer job at a men's clothing store. When he returned in the fall he still had some funds, but with frequent bowling alley trips he went through the money very quickly. After he had exhausted his funds and it was time for our trip to the bowling alley he couldn't go because, "I don't have any money." I have no idea how many times he said that, but he said it often, "I don't have any money." I don't know if his parents sent him any money, but if they did it wasn't much, he never "had any money."

When a group of us headed to the bowling alley stopped by his room to see if he wanted to come along he would say, "I don't have any money," so we began picking up his tab because we enjoyed his presence. He was one of life's interesting people always ready to inject his opinions on the affairs of the day, especially politics and religion. He frequently told me he would pay me back when he got some money, but according to him he never got any money.

When we returned to campus my senior year and Walter's junior year he was extremely bubbly that first day back as he entered our dorm room. Seldom had I seen him so alive. He informed me that he had money from his summer job and this semester he was returning with money in his pockets. One the most treasured lines he ever spoke to me was, "Stewart, I know I owe you some money, but if I pay you I won't have any." I will remember that line until the day I die! He never paid me, but over my last year as his roommate he did give me some of the record albums from his extensive collection, but I didn't get to make the selections.

I brought a TV back to campus my final year, but the only programs I watched were late night talk shows. Walter and I enjoyed watching Les Crane and Johnny Carson most nights before going to the bowling alley.

A few weeks before the end of the spring semester of 1966 one evening a few students returned from the Oasis, a popular local watering hole, having had a little too much beer. Many nights intoxicated students attempted to enter other student's rooms hoping to cause some disruption, especially if they were studying for a test. When they got to our room they found the door locked as always because Walter usually locked the door even when we were in the room. When the students couldn't gain admission they got a found a hammer and started banging on the door. Walter and I had already gone to bed when this action started, but we figured if we ignored them eventually they would go away. When things got quiet we thought they had given up and returned to their rooms, but suddenly we smelled smoke. They were trying to burn the dam door down! We jumped out of our beds and opened the door, but we saw nothing but a smoldering door. We got some water out of our room sink and threw it on the door. Later that night we found out who initiated the fire and went to his room and had a heated discussion with him about paying for the door. We went back to our room and spent the next two hours trying to figure out why anyone would want to burn down our door.

The next day when the Dean of Students heard about this episode he summoned me and Walter to his office to discuss the matter. At the conclusion of the meeting we were told we could either produce the names of the students who set the door on fire or we would be charged with paying for replacing the door. Walter and I discussed this for a couple of days and decided we would not divulge the names to the Dean. We went to the Dean's office later in the week and told him we would pay for the damaged door. We were in the process of final examinations with graduation one week away and now we had to buy a dam dorm room door.

I went home for the summer with no prospects of landing a job any time soon. I was finishing a correspondence course in Economic Statistics to complete the requirements for graduation. Since Macon had only one graduation per year I would officially be in the 1967 graduating class. Walter went home to work his regular summer job in a men's clothing store. For the next few years we didn't communicate very often. In the fall of 1966 he was beginning his senior year and I was at my parent's home trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

Not long after he graduated in the spring of 1967 he was drafted into the U.S. Army and the next time I heard of his whereabouts was through a mutual friend who informed me Walter had been deployed to Vietnam. Wow! As much as he talked about the war and how he hated the U.S. involvement he was headed to Southeast Asia. He told me years later how much he hated the service. He said the whites hated the blacks, the blacks hated the whites, and the Hispanics hated everybody. He mentioned while in Vietnam he thought of suicide several times.

Several years passed before I learned through a mutual friend Walter survived Vietnam and returned to Kerrsville. I traced his whereabouts and discovered he had entered the field of education as a high school English teacher. I got his phone number from information and we had several conversations during the year.

In 1970 he was offered a position at an all female school in Edinburgh, Scotland teaching English for a year. I called him long distance one time in early summer. He was enjoying the job, but looked forward to returning to the United States to continue his teaching career. He was certain teaching was his calling.

The next time I heard from him was1972. He called to ask me to be an usher for his wedding. Of course I agreed and was very happy he had found someone to share his life with. While at Macon he never had a date that I knew anything about. He never talked very much about women or having dates, but he had found someone, well, I was very happy for him.

In late spring I drove to Kerrsville to attend Walter's wedding. I spent Friday night at his parent's house. His parents had several people over for a small pre wedding party. His parents were very pleasant people. That night it was obvious, Walter was the happiest I had ever seen him.

The next morning Walter and I went downtown to pick up my tux before driving out to his school for a scheduled open house. It took about one hour commute to get to the school in a small town about fifty miles from Kerrsville. He was living in a rented house close to the school and planned to continue living there after the wedding. As I toured the school with Walter I witnessed the affection he had for his students as they came up to speak to him often as we walked the halls.

After the open house we returned to his parent's house to get dressed for the wedding. I got dressed and left for the church early to join the other ushers who were classmates of ours. While waiting for people to arrive for the wedding we paused to reflect on our recollections of Walter when we were all students at Macon. The church was packed and as Walter and Amy exited the church the ushers filled their heads with rice. Later that day I returned to my home in Raleigh.

A year passed before there was any communication between Walter and myself. This was a time before cell phones, emails, and text messaging so if you communicated by phone and talked for any length of time you paid a steep price for a long distance call. Rare was the time I wrote any letters to anyone including Walter. During college the only time I wrote a letter to my parents was to complain about something or to ask for more money. During the summer of 1973 Walter and I communicated by phone, I forget who called who, but there was a call and near the end of the call he invited me to Kerrsville to spend the weekend. I was very pleased to be asked to visit and I accepted. Walter and Amy had moved to an apartment in Kerrsville because he had resigned from his teaching job to pursue a writing career, something he often spoke about pursuing while we were in college.

I arrived late on Friday afternoon just before dark. Amy was not home from work so Walter and I grabbed a cool one and got caught up with each other. He told me he had been focusing entirely on writing and he showed me a drawer full of rejection letters from his manuscripts. Amy arrived home and jumped into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

On Saturday morning Amy was up early and out to work as she was working three part time jobs to support her husband's writing career. Later that morning Walter rode me out for a drive around certain parts of Kerrsville. I mentioned I had an uncle who had lived in Coley Farms but had passed away in 1968. We drove to Coley Farms and rode through the neighborhood looking for my uncle's house. We stopped at a little restaurant for lunch, but I have no recollection of where in Kerrsville this place was located.

When we returned to the apartment we continued to talk about his hope of a successful writing career and as I listened a continuing thought from our college years entered my mind, since I had known Walter he came across as something of a dreamer. He was a wonderful college roommate, a good friend, but at times he wasn't totally attached to the real world. I certainly didn't know much about a writing career, especially about how to write for a living so it didn't seem realistic to quit a fulltime teaching job you loved to start a career in writing. You could write on weekends and if it panned out you could always quit your job, but such was not the case. I listened, but I was thinking, "This is not practical." He spoke often about how things could be but spent little time focused on that day.

I left on Sunday for Raleigh to return to my work, still wondering where Walter was going with this writing whimsy. Years passed, decades passed, I moved several times, got married, changed jobs, and had kids, but no communication with Walter. What happened with our communication with each other? Well, it was called living, he lived his life and I lived mine and we got involved as many others do in the day to day grind of trying to figure out how to get through the day and prepare for the next day. I think we just forgot about each other.

In 2012, around forty years after my visit to Walter's apartment in Kerrsville I decided to attempt to reconnect after all those years so with help from the Internet I began the search. At that time I was living in the western part of the state having left the classroom for a second career in the community college system. Although I had retired, I stilled worked part time at the local college. I managed to locate Walter's phone number and committed to myself I would call him soon.

I left the college early one afternoon and decided when I got home I would give Walter a call. I placed the call about three o'clock that went to voice mail. I left my name and number and asked him to return the call when he had a chance. About an hour and a half later the phone rang and it was Walter, my old roommate. As we settled into our phone call Walter gave me a chronology of his last forty years. He taught high school for thirty years, had two sons during his marriage, divorced, almost died twice, and was living alone. That was a lot to process in one phone call, but when I called over the next two years I got repeats of the chronology plus additional information around those initial conversation pieces. I surmised early in our conversations he was going to monopolize the calls. Rarely did I get to say much. He'd asked how things were and I'd begin to tell him, but when I stopped to take a breath he jumped in for the next 30-40 minutes about his attempts at getting his writings published, his shortage of money, his ex-wife, his broken down car, and his sons. I tried to listen but sometimes I wanted him to want to hear something about my life, but he never gave me much time. Maybe because of his health, his loneliness since the divorce, his mounting debt, he just needed to vent and I was there to listen. I always offered solutions to some of his problems, but he had no interest in solving anything, was quick to bring up a problem, but a solution, that was nothing he was familiar with. Then he was back to dreaming about being a successful writer.

At first it was OK, I listened and he talked, but after a while I grew tired of these one sided conversations. On one call I told him he needed to listen to me sometimes, we needed to have a back and forth conversation which he said he understood, but quickly he was back into me, me, me.

I inquired about his marriage and the divorce several times, but all he ever said was his wife wanted to listen to Johnny Mathis and drink red wine. I never heard of any real reason(s) for the break up. But I thought to myself, "that's not so bad, what's wrong with Johnny Mathis and some red wine?" Why would you seek a divorce over a 331/3 LP and a glass of wine?

He complained his sons never brought their families to see him, but he never offered any reason why there were no visits. One son had a recent addition to his family and Walter complained about never getting to see him. One time a light bulb burned out and Walter couldn't reach it, so he called on of his sons to come and replace it. According to Walter it was a while before the son came over to replace the bulb. There was some reason or perhaps many reasons why his sons never visited, maybe they sided with their mom in the divorce, but all I ever heard was Walter's side of the story.

He expressed concern about his mounting debts, but he was robbing Peter to pay Paul, paying one bill one month, avoiding others til the next month and then robbing Paul to pay Peter the next month. Due to his poor health he rarely left the house except for doctor's appointments. He did have a caring neighbor who came to his house frequently to check on him and run an occasional errand. One afternoon when I called he talked about being tight for money until his next pension deposit and how he wished he could buy his favorite meal from a local Asian restaurant he loved. As we talked I thought, "what the hell, I can get restaurant's address from the Internet, I'll call in the order, give them my credit card order and have them deliver a favorite dish to his house." I called him back told him I was calling in the order if he would give me the name of the dish he wanted. He gave me the order plus he requested two Cokes. We closed our conversation and I called the restaurant to place the order.

He spoke often of his writings and how he was still trying to get some of his work published. I mentioned I had done some publishing via e-books, but he seemed to have little interest in pursuing that path. One book he had prepared was a book that opened from both sides, from the left and from the right, but it seems no one but him was interested in publishing such a book.

He found a web site that paid cash for creative slogans for taglines, advertising, jingles, and bumper stickers they selected for businesses to use. He was able to sell several of his slogans, but he didn't make much money. He spent countless hours coming up with slogans to submit. He got me to try this scheme and I did for about a week, but concluded it was a waste of time.

When his computer broke down it took months for him to acquire enough money to replace it. When he finally got a new computer he waited days before turning it on until he could figure out how to install some old software he had. I told him how to install the software, but he didn't listen. After several weeks he finally turned the computer on, but I don't think he ever got the old software installed. Later he got into Twitter and with every phone call he told me all the Twitter comments he wrote and about all the people he pissed off and how many Twitter users he had to block. Most of his comments were focused on politics. He was strongly supportive of the Democratic Party and their overall philosophies of how governments should operate.

He talked about one of his confinements in the hospital with acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) lying unconscious for about two weeks. He was surprised he survived that stay. He also mentioned that he had been fitted for a pacemaker.

I was concerned when he mentioned how often he bought lottery cards when he filled up his car at a gas station. He spent a lot of money trying to win big, which he never did, but he did boast of winning small amounts many times. I often wondered how much money he spent to win a few dollars. If you spend five hundred dollars to win fifty dollars total from playing a hundred cards that's not too impressive. I just listened.

He loved writer Ray Bradbury and told me he had met Bradbury in some teaching workshop and it was the meeting of his life. He had read most of Bradbury's books. He spoke about making cameo appearances in several movies, but I don't remember how he got any of the parts. He spoke of his days teaching in the public schools, but grew tired when the state legislature decided end of year testing was the answer to educational accountability. He was a teacher of the year in his state one year.

In 2013 Walter told me he had received letters from the IRS regarding his failure to pay his taxes. I listened intently through several calls, but the story was confusing about what had happened. Finally I understood that the time he was in the hospital he didn't file his taxes. His excuse told to me was "I was in the hospital, I couldn't file my returns, so to hell with it," and that was it. He was quite irritated being contacted by the IRS about his failure to file and when I tried to explain he was still responsible and he could file for an extension due extenuating circumstances he wasn't hearing it. For some reason he felt entitled to avoid paying his taxes. He finally settled the issue with the IRS by agreeing paying the back taxes in an installment arrangement.

During the Christmas season of 2013 I sent Walter a check for $50.00, not much but he could buy some takeout with it. A few months went by and he never mentioned receiving the check until I finally asked whether or not he received a check as I was concerned it may have been lost in the mail and said he did, then he proceeded to talk about his health problems, his wife, his kids, the Republicans, Twitter, and his debts until it got to a point where the calls were so predictable I just needed a break so during spring of 2014 I stopped calling. I don't remember him attempting to reach me. In August I decided to email him since we hadn't communicated for so long. Below is the email I sent:

The Email Message to Walter August 20, 2014

"Walter. I assume you are still alive since I haven't heard from you, hope you got the tax thing taken care of. We had a wonderful trip to the Pacific Northwest back in early July. Back home though to reality, the reality was (wife's) knee, she has had a problem with it for several months, finally went to the doctor. MRI revealed a torn cartilage so surgery scheduled for August 12, he went in and also found a torn meniscius, the cartilage was imbedded in the tissue so the operation was more extensive than expected. Since that time home and (wife's)been dealing with a difficult recovery, mostly pain management and not being able to do anything, which is where I come in, but that's what you do when you love your spouse, you take care of them. Last night was not good I think she most have rolled over or something but she woke up to tremendous pain at around 1:30, I gave her two pain pills and it took until about 3 for the stuff to kick in. So. I'm busy taking care of her so e-mail me to catch me up, don't call cause not a good time, but let me know how you are." Stewart

There was no further communication throughout the summer into the fall by either of us. With the constant one sided calls so I wasn't thinking about making or receiving any call from Walter. Since the inception and steady improvement of the Internet over the years on occasion I attempted to look people from my past to hopefully get some updates on their whereabouts. I never know what information might flash up on the screen. I keyed Walter's name in and there it was in the Kerrsville obits, "Walter... of Kerrsville died July 9, 2014. There was no one in his life who would have known to call me and let me know he had passed. Not the way I would have wanted it, but that was the way I found out. I located the funeral home's web site that attended to the arrangements and found they had a condolences page. I wrote some comments on the page and noticed at the bottom of the page there was an email address of one of his sons. I composed a condolence message and told him my name and association with his dad and if he ever wanted any more information about their dad from an old roommate to email me. I never heard back. It made me sad, but it was his choice, but maybe he already knew all he wanted to know. Our friendship had ended on a sad note. I will remember him as one of the more interesting people I have ever been known, but he stills owes me money for pancakes.

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About The Author

Charles White is a retired educator. His professional education career spanned forty years as a high school social studies teacher, a coach, and a community college administrator. He has a bachelor's degree in economics from N. C. Wesleyan College and advanced degrees in education from Campbell University and California Coast University. He lives near Pittsboro, North Carolina.

Other Books by the Author

Memoir from the Flash

The Glass Ceilings Tile Company

Matt and Lizzy Suicides in Warren County

Remembering Sports

The Glass Ceilings Tile Company

Now Boarding

