Saturday, September 7, 2013


The memorial service for Darlyne was today. I wish I could have been there. I look around and see the losses. The ones who are leaving us. I know we all must go, sooner or later. I think about the pain she must have endured at the end; I know I don't handle it well myself and she must have suffered so much.
I was going through my purse and found a slip of paper. She had written her address down for me at the reunion.  I cannot think of her without remembering the night my car broke down in the lot at the Longhorn. It was late and a guy named Clarence offered to take us home. We decided to accept his offer and Darlyne, being the brave one, got in the front seat. Carole and I got in the back. He said he had to go by his house and pick up something; turned out to be a shotgun. He drove to his girlfriend's house and before we knew what was happening someone comes out of the house with a gun. Clarence chickens out and tries to get the car started, no luck. He opens the door, one foot on the pavement, one hand on the steering wheel, trying to push the car down the hill to start it. By this time the three of us are on the floorboard screaming. It starts and as soon as he gets away from the house we jump out and start running; all the way back to Boogerville from North Highland. 

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