February 12, 2006

Feb. 13

Febuary 13, 1936: Blizzard, cold, baby. Folks in the country were trying to dig out the roads so that the town doctor could get out to deliver an immigrant farmer's wife's baby. In the small town, folks were trying to dig out to meet them. They were late.

My dad was born in a small farmhouse seventy years ago. I'd heard the story as a little guy. Never knew where it was. I found out shortly after I moved down to Stillman, that it was here... right up the road. Some of the old timers still talk of that winter, though their numbers are fast dwindling. There's a good chance that it was immortalized in a book written by the doctor, just one of his many experiences as town doc. I've been looking for a copy of it...

Taking the day off tomorrow. Making a trip to the cemetery, and down memory lane.

I'll catch ya on Tuesday.

Posted by That 1 Guy at February 12, 2006 08:05 PM

Have a good day with those memories. I'll be thinking of you.

Posted by: oddybobo at February 13, 2006 08:20 AM

Oh damn, late again, I have the afternoon off Tuesday, was going to see if you wanted to come down. Never mind.

Posted by: Raging Mom at February 13, 2006 12:28 PM

13 has always been a lucky number for me. Looks like it is for you too. Have a good day tomorrow...

Posted by: Richmond at February 13, 2006 04:57 PM

Have a good memory day, and enjoy the time off! Happy Valentines Day!

Posted by: Moogie at February 14, 2006 07:01 AM