I know that I have written about the quaint little town that I grew up in before. We walked or biked to everything. We had parades and festivals. I will forever remember playing kick the can in the tree lined street in front of our house or watching fireworks on my front steps or meeting friends in the park. The only French fries I will ever crave are the vinegar soaked ones that the firemen made at the annual July 4th festival.
People that I grew up with still live there. If they left they somehow come back either to visit or to stay. It’s the home to at least three different churches. At one time classmates of mine were teachers at either the grade school, middle school or high school. It’s a mix of old houses that are filled with built ins, French doors and hardwood floors. There is a newer section of homes, too, and I think my sister told me that every build able piece of land is now gone. I am certain that there are towns like this all over the country. But this one will forever be in my heart.
This week three people who at one time lived on my street died. All of them hold a special place in my heart.
Mr. Andy Bozin…this is what his son wrote about his death…
Subject: Lt A.J. Bozin – RIP
“about 21:50 hours Tuesday April 19, 2016, Andy powered up for a short field takeoff and pulled back on the yoke under divine guidance and lifted off skyward for his last flight.”
Mr. Bozin would toss all of us in his car and take us fishing and then out for ice cream. My parents loved him.
this is what her son wrote…
“My Dears Patty and Dennis, Mom is now Free!
God Bless her, at 94—Katherine was lucid and conversant. She went in her Sleep; 20 minutes after the last of us left, after visiting. Prayers answered… Mom was tired. She just wanted to Sleep.
My Sister in Law, Jan asked her how she was feeling. Mom made a flying Bird with her Right Hand, and said… “Like an Angel of God.”
She has many Angels to keep her Company… and Fans on Earth.”
Mrs. Byers was my mom’s church friend and mom to the four Byers Boys.
And then Cynthia…Cynthia Lee Streeter…
Yesterday a friend called to tell me my that my next door neighbor died. She no longer lived in our town…she lived in Alaska and then Spokane…she had children and a grandchild. She produced educational documentaries. She allowed me to tag along after her and her best friend when I was little. I always thought she was kind and really patient with me. In my eyes she was worldly and brave. My parents gave her the French doors from our dining room when she was building a house in Alaska. She wanted a part of our town with her always. We recently shared emails and connected again. In high school she was always the lead in plays and productions. She was like no one else I knew. She tossed aside her small town roots and amazed all of us.
Life can be sad.