Only in Four Corners Robert Sheridan bobsheridan email@example.com
I want you guys to pay respectful, meaning quiet, attention while I recount a little FawCawnahs story, a true story, that just happened me tonight.
I got an email from a WR3RD@AOL.COM asking if I'm the same Bobby Sheridan who ever lived on Winthrop Place, Four Corners. Just so happens I did, but I can't think of who WR could be as we moved in 1947, when I was seven years old, up to Hodges Place, three blocks up Victory Blvd., still Four Corners.
This guy remembers me from way back then?
I tell him yes, I used to live there a hundred years ago, allowing for a little exaggeration, and who might you be.
He writes me back and says his name is Bill Rex. Billy Rex. I know the name Rex. My parents were always mentioning Babe Rex, his dad. Billy is eleven years older than me, which is like being older than dirt. He asks after my parents, Molly and Leo, whose names he mentions, so I know he's old friends. I tell him Mom's still around and well, in Florida. After a half hour I think I'll call Mom and have her brief me on who was who in the zoo when I was five and trying to run Winthrop Place.
I call Mom and tell her about this email I get and she says I just spoke to Billy Rex, he looked me up on the internet.
He says he still feels bad about the time he took you for a bike ride on his shoulders and you hit your head on the awning over on Victory Boulevard where the drugstore was, do you remember that? He was sixteen, you were five.
Jeez, here's a guy remembers me from when I'm five years old and he still feels guilty for knocking me goofy.
I write him and tell him all is forgiven, I've forgotten the incident, no doubt because of the trauma and all.
I wish I could tell all the people I hit over the head, figuratively, that I still feel guilty and I'm sorry and maybe they'll forgive me too. That would be nice.
So I write him a nice email and invite him to show up here if he feels like it. I tell him you guys are really nice people. Sometimes I lie.
Then I check my email again in awhile and he's happy its me 'n all, when what to my surprise, I get an email from his little brother, Jackie, also older than me, and dirt. Jackie also warmly remembers my parents and sister, Eileen, and the fact that I was a freckle faced little kid of immense charm, not to say guile.
So I know he's legit too, and put him in touch with Mom as she enjoyed the reunion with Bill so much.
Billy is a fourth generation tugboatman. I didn't get what Jackie does/did. They were also champion bowlers, some of them. Bill says Mim, who visits this site, used to take care of him. So when we have the old FawCawnahs clambake, you know who's all coming. Loaded with Crumbuns, I might add.
I told these guys to get over here, we want to get to know them. They're family, FawCawnahs family, and I want you to welcome them should they show up. They looked after me when I was a little kid, of which there is no higher recommendation coming from a StatNislander.
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