,
story he recalled
how
an a hunting
he'd found a snake that said he had chopped the
trip
had just swallowed a baby rabbit. He snake in two and set the bunny free. He let go of my hand and stretched his arms to show me how long the snake had been. He waved his hands around in demonstration to the way his father
"wupped" him
for not shooting the rabbit for supper.
rapt attention.
Over
little
persistence, a
all
little
those differences, over creativity,
all
I
listened in
those years, a
and the help of one word
unveiling a bridge of commonaHty.
-AmberlyHowe
Along t^e ^romenabe. {for
E.O.
.
Witl^out
You
Gmnbset)
wish that they hadn't chosen to have your funeral on Monday. had class and I couldn't make it. I'm sorry. The weather was perfect, though, wet, rainy, cold—not unusual for a February day at Southern. There were masses of umbrellas meandering down the Promenade. Most of them were striped: white and dark color, usually green, blue, red, or black. Plain black also seemed to be a common umbrella color. The old, twisted apple tree on the lower promenade had seven cardinals in it this morning. I wish you could have been here to see it. But no such luck. I don't think I ever met you. I heard plenty of stories, though. Stories about your classes; stories about ornithology trips to the Everglades. I went to your Sabbath School a couple of times. I've even hung out in your room in the Student Center. And I've been to your lecture series four or five times, although I must admit it was because my biology grade depended on it. I've really enjoyed the Christmas Tree Lighting tradition you started. I've gone ever year. The free doughnut holes and hot chocolate are especially nice. Even though it looked more like a Christmas Blob than a Christmas Tree this year, it was still a great way to celebrate the beginning of the "most wonderful time of the year." I guess what I really remember you from is your columns. They seemed so silly at the time. You would ramble about what
I
I
