Remembering a Mom on Memorial Day
May 31st, 2010 by John Creighton in Dispatches
Tags: Atwood, Holidays, Neighbors
I’ve been looking at the Facebook posts imploring people to remember our veterans on Memorial Day. I must confess the first person I think of on Memorial Day is not a veteran. I think of a mother who served her community and country, too. I think of Mrs. Gladys Beamgard. C.W.’s wife. In my mind, she is standing on a platform in the middle of our local cemetery. The surrounding grave sites are adorned with a rainbow of flowers. Small [...]
Read more...Lawn Mowers for Hire
May 28th, 2010 by John Creighton in Photo Per Day
Tags: Joe, Longmont, Neighbors
Joe and his friend Carson making a venture into the lawn mowing business.
Read more...Miss Mary
January 31st, 2010 by John Creighton in Snapshots
“Help,” I heard a small voice float by on the breeze. I paused. I looked. Nothing. I continued to walk up the alley toward my house when I heard the whisper a second time, “Help.” Again, I looked in all directions. The voice was close yet distant. I felt like Horton searching for a speck with Whos. I could sense that someone needed help. I felt it. But couldn’t tell where the cry was coming from. I stood there, ears pricked, [...]
Read more...Dog Bite
January 30th, 2010 by John Creighton in Snapshots
Tags: Atwood, Dad, Friends, Mom, Neighbors
I won’t say I ended Miss Neidermeyer’s babysitting career. I believe my neighbor and classmate, Amy McClellan, still went to her house after the incident. But, I was never welcome back without my mom. Miss Neidermeyer was one of the most welcoming people you could ever hope to meet. She was kind, gentle, caring and conscientious. I scared the bajeezus out of her. The dog bite was the last straw. Mrs. Neidermeyer was Amy’s regular baby sitter. Mrs. McClellan worked [...]
Read more...Rolling Cigarettes
January 29th, 2010 by John Creighton in Snapshots
Tags: Atwood, Longmont, Mom, Neighbors
“I’m home,” I yelled as I walked in the front door returning from a neighbor’s. I threw my jacket on the bench in the front hall knowing full well I’d be called back to pick it up when Mom discovered it later in the day. Still, it seemed like the right place to keep the jacket until I was asked to hang it in the closet. Mom stuck her head around the kitchen door, “How was it?” “Fine,” I said, [...]
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