Stayed in today, and have spent the better part of the last 4 hours going through a box of old letters and cards. Mostly have been smiling as I remember the people who wrote them.
As a young adult I went through a crisis that included but was not limited to the death of my father. There I was, back home living with mom, with my sweet baby boy. His father, a marine, was in jail. Luckily my old boss at the hospital found out I was back and offered me my old job -- which I gladly accepted. It was a time I did not want to think, so in addition to job and baby, I read every spare minute, and when, as an amateur astronomer, I found instructions for making a telescope, a 100 power reflector, decided to do it. And did. Still have it. Anyway, back to reading. By then I was reading mostly science fiction, especially Isaac Asimov (a scientist who wrote science fiction), so decided to write him a letter about one of his short stories that really impressed me: Nightfall.
The point of this story: He wrote back to me, and I found his letter in the box a little while ago. Here's what he wrote:
"Thank you very much for your letter of 24 October.
I was delighted that I have been the occasion of your pleasure. Putting the necessity of earning a living to one side, I write in order that I might give pleasure and it is something that gives me pleasure in return to know that I have succeeded.
I hope that I will never disappoint you. Isaac Asimov"
:biggrin:
AWESOME! :smitten: :smitten:
A treasured keep-sake to say the least. :yes:
Yes! and thank you, Palehorse. :smile:
That's a great story and a great keepsake Libby. ;D
Awesome story and thanks for sharing.
That's really cool, Libby!
That is so cool, Libby. What a treasure.
Thanks all y'all. :happy: And by the way, for those of you who live in Indiana: I found out from another one of those old letters that I have two cousins who live in Elkhart -- or at least used to. And no, Y, if you read this, their surname is not Gaither. :wink:
Reading your wonderful memory, made me think of one of mine. It is a bitter sweet memory. Many years ago when I was working at Ford Motor Co. in Indianapolis. I heard that Bobby Kennedy was in the factory. I started walking toward where I thought he was at. I walked out between two big machines and sorta surprised him. He was a small man and he looked really tired from all the campaigning he had been doing. We shook hands and talked for a very short time and he then walked of with the people he was with. I was just one of the many people he had talked to in the past weeks.
The next evening he was shot and killed in California and his life cut short. :vday: :4th3:
Wow! You saw him the day before he does. :spooked:
Quote from: The Troll on November 05, 2016, 07:13:05 PM
Reading your wonderful memory, made me think of one of mine. It is a bitter sweet memory. Many years ago when I was working at Ford Motor Co. in Indianapolis. I heard that Bobby Kennedy was in the factory. I started walking toward where I thought he was at. I walked out between two big machines and sorta surprised him. He was a small man and he looked really tired from all the campaigning he had been doing. We shook hands and talked for a very short time and he then walked of with the people he was with. I was just one of the many people he had talked to in the past weeks.
The next evening he was shot and killed in California and his life cut short. :vday: :4th3:
I was a paperboy in SW Suburban Chicago, and I delivered the morning papers that day with a full page, color picture of Mr. Kennedy laying on that floor with his blood pooling beneath him. I knew it had happened and so was anxiously waiting the delivery of my papers so I could get them to my customers as early as possible. Most of them were waiting on their porches for me much to my surprise. . . (Including that older sister of a friend of mine. . . But that's another memory.)