You didn’t expect pictures, did you?
I caught up with Connie on her phone when she was out for a Saturday afternoon walk. Huffing and puffing just a little, she proceeded to tell me where she was and what she saw. “I’m over by the old grade school, North Ward.”
I know it, my mother taught there. It’s been leveled and so has West Ward.
“Now I’m walking down Richard Vybiral’s old alley, old because he doesn’t live there anymore and convenient because it’s paved.”
His mother and mine were friends in school. The longer we live here, the longer it takes to introduce someone.
“I’m walking down Linden. A new sign is going up. Soon as I can see it, I’ll read it to you: ‘Ryan’s Repair and Automotive Service; Scott’s Tree Service’. The guys are laughing at me. I’m reporting the news.”
I only know of one individual who put their car in the top of a tree and lived to tell about it. Prague. Saturday night. The guys had no idea where they were, until daylight and the first step.
“Somebody just drove by and gave me a one fingered wave―index finger.”
They’re too tired to wave them all.
“Wahoo State Bank’s time is 2:36 pm. The bank is closed, so is Lucille’s. I think the only businesses open are the Warehouse, Dollar General, The Chinese Restaurant and a bar.”
It isn't like Saturdays past when families came to town to shop until 11 pm and trade eggs and cream for flour and sugar.
“The wind’s coming up and dark clouds are rolling in. I need to get home so I can cleanup and get to the Museum’s Barbecue. See you there.”
The menu is barbecued pork sandwiches, baked beans, coleslaw, potato salad, and if we have room, Donald Proett’s brownie sundae with ice cream made on the spot.
And that’s the news from Wahoo, the one and only.
©2010 Red Convertible Travel Series