NaBloPoMo, Day 2

(My god, she isn't going to do THAT, is she?  Give every effing blog a number??  Gah....)

Things just keep pouring into the hopper here.  Jim--dear old Jim from 5th grade at St. Mary's--(and yes he's old--at least as old as I am, which is plenty) sent an article this a.m. about David McCullough, who happens to be one of his favorite writers.  McCullough has a 900+ page book about Harry Truman, which I should read--Truman always has been one of my favorites, and until Barack Obama came along, was the only US president I'd ever seen in person.  It was a cool fall night in Fargo, ND, and Harry Truman was making his September 29, 1952, whistle stop speech there. Whether he was going East to West (Minnesota to Montana) or West to East (vice versa), his train stopped in Fargo, where they had set up BRIGHT lights at the Great Northern depot so Mr. Truman could stand on the rear platform of the train and make a speech. Was he pitching for Adlai Stevenson?  I have no idea what he spoke about, but I yelled and clapped  and shivered with excitement in addition to the cold.  His speech was a big hit, as I recall.  Even my mother went with me and said she'd vote for him. I think my dad may have had league bowling night, but he wasn't there.

What I love about the article Jim sent is what McCullough says about writing.  He quotes Dickens: "Make me see!!"  He still writes on an old second-hand Royal Typewriter made in 1940.  It made me think of Martha's dad's typewriter, which Martha gave to me about 10 years ago after her dad died.  Recently I had it spiffed up and shipped it to Martha's beloved granddaughter Ruby.  Things like that should stay in a family.  I hope Ruby will get busy on the typewriter and make us SEE life in Grand Rapids.

Ruby's mom, Gretchen, and dad, Bob, have become friends since my first visit to GR two months after Ruby was born, and we have been exchanging nonsequiturs this past week on the odd FB premise that we wake up in a psychiatric ward together.  We're allowed to exchange greetings, but only FOUR WORDS EACH.  Gretchen has drawn comments like, "Will you marry me?" and "Clunk turned us in." (Clunk being their dog.) Bob has offered, "How many is four?"

I love my friends (that's four words!!)

UPDATE: Jim says he was in the crowd that night at the train station in Fargo, too, and even though they didn't know each other yet, Sandy (his future and present wife) was there, too. What a gloriously small world!