First Friday

Uncle Wallace

Sinus infection has a good hold on me today; I’m taking antibiotic but it hasn’t started working yet. This too shall pass.
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Carolyn was coping with the deer incident until yesterday when she passed the place where it happened and saw buzzards picking the poor critter’s bones.
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Sammy is coming over to spend the afternoon; I will be staying away from him so I won’t infect him. Drat!
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The pic is the only known existing photo of my uncle Wallace (my mother’s brother); he died from a head injury long before I was born. Seems like he was playing in the yard and a pig knocked him into a cellar door. He seemed ok but after a while began losing his ability to speak and then he lost his ability to walk and feed himself. My grandparents took him to doctors early on, but they said there was nothing could be done for him; the injury was causing bleeding deep in his brain and surgery of the type that might save him these days was unheard of in the late 1930′s. Wallace Richard Phillips — January 4th, 1925 – March 8, 1939. He died in his mother’s loving arms.
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Have a good weekend, everyone.
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