It was a night during the early 1990s, one of my girls made her journey. Oh, I had a lot of girls. They were WACs and I was American and International Red Cross. We worked the hospital ships at one time and then later Disaster Relief Services. It was a transitioning time where Red Cross would take another seat under government scrutiny. What didnt take a different seat was the fountain. It was a fall night. Sitting at the counter of the Waffle House, this song was found on the juke box. A $5.00 bill and the repeated pressing of the same number would insure that I would no be disturbed from writing letters to my girls who remained. Their memory is a shadowed building at Ft. McClellan grounds. The adjacent road near Baltzel Gate leads to the officers cemetary from the time when the fort was a camp for German POWs. The letters were composed over several cups of coffee and a Club Sandwich complete with a side of coleslaw. https://youtube/watch?v=nitiMG81DRc
Posted on: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 03:42:21 +0000
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