Words forum: NON-FICTION

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Mar 14, 2011 5:12 AM CST
Name: Toni Leland
Connecticut Shoreline
Non-fiction covers a wide range of writing. Anything that deals with facts or describes real events is non-fiction. Tell us what non-fiction writing YOU do.
Equestrian fiction, YA contemporary, Paranormal Romance, and more
Mar 14, 2011 1:19 PM CST
Name: Gloria Gerritz
Floyd, VA
I am an empath -- I cannot stand hu
Speaking of RR tracks, I have a fondness of them because
Mrs. Andrako and I would walk them looking for tiger
lilies on the side. She taught me about Mullein and other
plants as well. I wonder how old the dear woman was;
she seemed ancient. Yet her husband was working when
he died after being exposed to toxins in a chemical railway
car, so she might have 40, 50, or 60. You know how the
adults seemed generically OLD. We couldn't differentiate
very well those subtle degrees of age that we do now where
we go by our bodies to tell us about getting old: fading sight,
reduced hearing, loss of muscle mass, and so many other
things I don't even want to go into late at night. If there
are any encounters after death (probably aren't,) I would
like to see Mrs Andrako and apologize for not writing to
her when we moved to Clarence, only a few miles away.
Children by nature are so self centered and don't realize
the pain they can create in adults generally.

I got two books on American folk art. One of them has
photos of some exquisite Merry Go Round animals hand
carved by European artisans who immigrated for that
purpose. They had chickens, swans, giraffes, lions, but
mostly horses. The people who lived on a street parallel
to ours would open the carousel up for Pat and me and
let us pick our animals. This was close to dusk. They let
us ride round and round and listen to the Calliope music
until we only had a little light to wend our way home.
Again, I never realized what a favor the couple was giving
us. I can't believe that we took it for granted, thinking it
normal, for these people to go to such lengths to please
two poor Southern children who were shy and blonde.
Well, at least one was shy; the other had enough sense
to act shy.

Sometimes Mrs Andrako would take me to see her
friend who had a yard with a couple of goats. She always
took a couple of bottles of wine or liquor with her. I was
not invited inside often, so I would stay outside and trick
the goats into eating strawberries by wrapping them in
leaves. I did this because one of the women told me that
goats did not eat strawberries! See how rebellious I was.
Maybe nearly as rebellious as you on good behavior. Mrs
Andrako was always doing things for others. She secretly
gave Frank across the street money. He was an alcoholic
too and lived with another old (?) man. He was the one
who patronized the dark saloon across the Niagara Blvd.
We had a nose for adults who had a soft place for shy,
sweet, little girls. Poor Frank giving us all those bags
of chips to make us go away from that dark door and
allow him and the others to drink in peace.

Across the street on Niagara Blvd. was a huge park
which was filled with very old, very tall elms. There we
would sometimes go as a family to picnic or for Pat and
me to learn how to ride our new bicycles. They extended
our roaming territory 500 % at least. We were all innocents,
At least mom, Pat,and I were; we didn't know about men
who would hurt children. Daddy did but never said anything
about it. Also, on the street of the carnival rides (secondly
we loved the ferris wheel which they turned on for us also.)
across and down in one of the weed filled fields was a dirt
track for motorcycles which occasionally raced over the rough
and hilly dirt track, flying up in the air each time they reached
a hill summit. They wore leather jackets but no helmets.

It was in those boggy fields that Mrs. Andrako showed me
the killdeer which were always so hysterical in the spring.
She taught me how they would pretend to have a broken
wing to lead us away from their nest. Then the field was
soon filled with little balls of fluff with legs which could
disappear in a heartbeat.

Mrs Andrako also took me to the Catholic church further
down Niagara Blvd. when there was no one there. I had
only been in a clapboard gray church in TN. I was allowed
free reign to look at the vestments of the priests, the lovely
cases of rosary beads, and to see the stained glass windows.
For a short while I believed in heaven because of it. But
Mom had the usual hatred and fear of the Catholic Church
and I was never allowed to go back, much less join that
magical place.

On the other side of Niagara Bvld. was a convenience store
run by the Volkers. We were sent there for milk, eggs, or
bread. They lived behind the store in the same building. This
was new to me also. I was so happy then with all the lovely
places around us. I didn't know we were poor, scorned
Southern immigrants or that Daddy was well on his way to
becoming an alcoholic. We only saw the rich and good
things in that little run down cluster of tar paper houses
with a communal back yard bordered by the RR tracks,
and train cars pulled off to the side. I think I could have
been happy and excited any where, but especially with
my darling Mrs Andrako.

Well, I am garrulous tonight at this late hour. I lay this
at your feet as a gift,

This is repetitious of some things I wrote before. I wrote this
for a person I love.

Mar 14, 2011 1:22 PM CST
Name: Toni Leland
Connecticut Shoreline
Very nice! I love reading memories.
Equestrian fiction, YA contemporary, Paranormal Romance, and more
Mar 14, 2011 1:29 PM CST
Name: Sharon
Lovely memories, Gloria. Thank you for sharing them.
Sometime maybe you can get them all collected and edited and perhaps published. Most people enjoy reading about memories, it often triggers their own.

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