Editor:
I recently received your issue of The New Era with the article on the 1939 class reunion.
I graduated there in 1940.
Ron Fogle was in the picture. Of course, I know all of them, but there was an incident that happened in the early 1930s, and I wonder if Ron remembers it.
There were four of us kids that would meet at the river in the summertime and go swimming. It was Ron the barber’s son, Bill Creeson the doctor’s son, John Riley the butcher’s son and me. I was nothing.
One time, John said after swimming, “If you kids will come to Dad’s butcher shop, I’ll treat you to a soda.”
This was on the corner of Long Street and 12th Avenue. We were sitting in there drinking the soda, and a woman came in and said to Clyde, “I’m passing through town and wonder if you would have some meat scraps for my dog.”
“No, I don’t, but I have a cow tail I can sell you pretty cheap,” Clyde said.
He went and got it and held it up.
“I’ll take half of it,” she said.
Clyde chopped up half of it, wrapped it and laid it on the counter. She asked him how much it cost, and he said, “Two bits.”
“My g––, that’s awfully high for _____,” she said.
We boys started laughing, and I squirted pop out of my nose. She looked at us and realized what she said and stormed out of the building, leaving the meat on the counter.
Poor Clyde stood there with his mouth open.
Lawrence “Lefty” Moe
Deland, Fla