letters
J. Speer
My mother saved all my letters and when she was at home dying of cancer, I typeset them on a manual machine, no electric connection needed. We listened to records I checked out of the public library: Pete Fountain, “Fountain in the Rain” and Duke Ellington, “The Cotton Club Stomp”. I dedicated a self published chap to her and picked up the books from the copy service the same day we lowered her into the ground. She is buried in Nashville in the military cemetery.
Dear Maria:
It was 108 degrees yesterday in San Bernardino. The next door neighbor, Tim, came over&told us a story. His grandmother, Mrs. Leslie M. LeCron,&her 87 year old friend, a former resident of Calico, CA, were driving home from church in an ’82 Cadi Coupe de Ville. A cat jumped out in front of their car&they ran over it. Mrs. Le Cron stopped. Much to their chagrin, the steel belted radials had ruptured the cat from stem to stern. The guilt she felt made them knock on every door in the neighborhood until the owner was located. The owner was a young girl who was playing dolls in her backyard. The mother received the dreadful news. She asked the old ladies if they would take a sack and dispose of the remains. To save the girl from the bloody sight, they tied the sack up with the cat&placed it in the backseat. They left the car open as they parked in a shopping center to look for a dumpster. They found one and returned to the car in time to see a woman steal the sack. The woman didn’t see them. She ran into a restaurant&sat at the counter. The two ladies followed&watched through a window. Curiosity took over as the thief felt secure. She peeked into the sack&apparently thought she had lifted a valuable fur. She smiled and pulled the cat completely out into the light. When she saw it was a bloody corpse she fainted dead away. The two ladies left the scene, deciding the cat had served a useful purpose in dealing justice to a petty thief.
