Signal 7 on Hasty Hill
For nineteen years, a man in a lawn chair has sat at the top of Hasty Hill with a hand-lettered sign: SLOW DOWN—KIDS, FARM EQUIPMENT, AND DEPUTIES AHEAD. He has …
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The Story Line Begins Again
For thirty-one years, a phone number in our county connected to a recorded bedtime story. The story changed every Sunday night. The voice did not. There was no advertising, no …
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The Biscuit on the Windowsill
Grandma Nell burned one biscuit in every batch for seventy years. Deliberately. We all knew it. Nobody knew why. The burnt one never went in the trash. It went on …
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Snow Sunday in the Coat Room
The Sunday of the ice storm, our church lost power at 6 a.m. No heat. No lights. No sound system. Fourteen degrees inside by ten. The pastor posted the cancellation …
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Dot’s Name on the Scoreboard
For forty-one years, Dot ran the concession stand at the county Little League fields. She missed four games total. Two for funerals. Two for hurricanes. The league board voted this …
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Biscuit’s Birthday Built a Shelter Room
My mother-in-law threw a birthday party for her pug. At the Elks Lodge. With a DJ. I want to be clear: we all told her she was out of her …
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The Keeper of the North Window
The lantern in our north window has burned every night since 1953. Family legend says Grandma was waiting for her son to come home from Korea. There is one problem …
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The Sunday Call That Opened the Door
My mother-in-law left her sister behind in the old country in 1974. One visa. Two sisters. A promise: “Next year.” The calls ran every Sunday at 8 p.m. for fifty-one …
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The Space Reserved for Route 12
The parking lot at Lincoln Elementary has one front-row space that teachers have never parked in. Not once in eleven years. It has no sign. The parents think it belongs …
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The Receipt in the Time Capsule
Our town dug up the 1994 time capsule last week. Thirty-one years, right on schedule. The mayor’s office invited the original donors to the opening. Two families arrived ready to …
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