Tuesday, October 10, 2006


(5x7 inch oil on panel)

This is my memory of the pond in the backfield of the farm in Lebanon, Ohio, where I grew up. On the other side of the fence was one of Mike Drexinger's fields. My memories of Mike are only wonderful. He was a gruff, little old man, with a thick German accent, who always seemed to have a two-day beard. He lived in the big farmhouse around the bend from our house, with his sister Doris, who was completely deaf. She could communicate very clearly, though.

I remember once we took Doris to see the Cincinnati Reds. She loved the game, but there was a great deal of drama at the stadium. She had never seen or been on an escalator. She was terrified and pretty determined that she wasn't going to start that night. With some coaxing she finally conquered that fear. It was a great night. My mom was dreading it, because our communicator with Doris, Mike, wasn't gonig with us. She was afraid it would be a difficult evening. But, Doris was great. I told Doris I wished that I could catch a foul ball, but she made it very clear to me that it would burn the snot out of my hand. What a great smile she had. She and Mike have been gone for a long time now. But, Good Lord willing, they will live on in my memory.

Murphy, my labrador retriever, learned he could swim, in this pond, on an Easter Sunday afternoon. He's been gone for 5 years, but he was a good friend and companion for 16 years and 11 months.

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