“The dense fog persists for days. Townfolk, passersby on our twisted cobbled streets, can recognize no one until they are within a few feet from one another. Sounds of foot traffic or barking dogs are muffled to the extent I begin to fear I’ve lost my hearing. Yet, last night
as the mantel clocked struck the midnight hour, I thought I heard the faint sound of a scream but it faded before I could investigate. As a muted dawn broke, I discovered my front door wide open and lying across the threshold was…”
Molly shivered and closed her great-grandfather’s leather-bound journal. She found the book while exploring her ancestor’s long-abandoned house in London. Why had he not finished the sentence? Did someone come in and find him at his desk while he was recording his discovery?
The legend Dennis L. Porter, 95, of Enid passed November 15, 2020. Services will be held privately under the direction of Brown-Cummings Funeral Home.
Condolences may be made to the family online at www.Brown-Cummings.com. As one of Oklahomaʼs oldest single family owned and operated providers of funerals and cremations, Brown-Cummings is the name families have turned to for generations. They fully understand the honor and responsibility entrusted to them to preserve the story of oneʼs life. Visit 400 W. Maple, Enid, OK 73701. Call: (580) 237-5432.
Once you have written your roll call piece, send it to everyone in the club by email (if you have that capability). You can “reply all” to the email that sent the newsletter and attach your piece so all can see. The “reply all” command allows you to use the email addresses of the entire club so you don’t have to look them up.
Our Roll Call pieces have been voted on and Paula Benge won for the month of September. Here is her piece.
Paula Benge – EWC roll call September 2020
2020, the year that the world tilted off its axle, as if it took a right jab and got stuck seeing stars, with newscasters giving play-by-play.
A million months ago, in January, I fed Polish students Thanksgiving dinner. Two months later, the world run out of toilet paper. It was on tv. I didn’t panic. Historically, humans always had something to use, even before Charmin was trademarked. I kept my chin up. A rookie mistake—in boxing, your chin is down so your brain doesn’t get sloshed from one side to the other after, say, a right jab.
We were on the mat and television was saying stay down. Loved ones were shut out or shut in. Access to haircuts rivalled internet access. Masks didn’t matter—then they did. Life was bizarrely stranger than any fiction. Then, I waved a finger. Not in surrender. The tv perished with one push.