A Tale Of Two Sisters

                                         A Tale Of Two Sisters

        " Sisters are different flowers of the same garden "
                                          Author Unknown

     Once upon a time there were two sisters, they were the best of friends but as different as night and day.
     One was a fun loving wild child who had a rebellious nature, carefree, talented, very opinionated and often quite loud, she had a singing voice to rival the angels. She was a beautiful 14 year old brunette, tall and slender - almost anorexic, with long dark hair hanging down her back.
     The older sister was 17, tall with long legs, shoulder length dark hair and eyes as blue as a summer sky. She was down to earth, loving, caring, selfless and gave freely her time and energy for the betterment of others, she touched the hearts and souls of all she encountered, she was wise beyond her years, the world is a better place because, for a time, she was a part of it.
     In the early years their parents relocated often and they had no time to make friends so they became best friends. It was this closeness that carried them thru life, whenever the pressures of the day weighed heavy on their hearts they would turn to each other, the solace of their friendship rejuvenated them, returning them to a childhood filled with happiness.
     Three years separated them in birth and many times thru the years they were separated by great distances but their hearts and minds always remained connected regardless the distance. They would talk on the telephone for hours when they were apart, when together they would burn the midnight oil staying up till the crack of dawn regaling each other with stories of their lives and memories of their past, the wild child would play her guitar as they sang songs in harmony between giggles and laughter, together they were ageless. Never were cross or condescending words spoken, never did one put down the other. When they met after a long separation their eyes would light up, their faces would glow, their hearts filled with joy. When they parted it was with sadness, tears and anticipation of the next encounter when a repetition of the last get together would take place.
     Their lives took different paths, the wild child took many years to settle down, to her despair the rebel in her lurked in the shadows and often showed itself. At times she seemed to struggle to keep herself pointed in the right direction but with the help of her older sister she always kept plugging away, never giving in to defeat. The older sister married, raised two handsome boys that were her pride and joy. She devoted herself to her family and friends. She touched the hearts of hundreds of people she never knew.  She thrived on beauty, laughter and happiness, that was the world in which she lived.
     Sadly it was the wild child that had to say goodbye to her older sister who passed away far to soon leaving behind grieving loved ones who missed her dearly. Though many felt the loss deeply the one who may have suffered the most was the wild child who took the passing hard, she could no longer turn to her sister to be lifted above the reality of life. Less than a year later the wild child passed away, quite possibly from a broken heart.
      Sibling love such as this usually exist only in fairy tales, born of magic potions, sprinkled with pixie dust and passed down thru the ages in folklore.
      This love did exist, it was as real as the air we breathe and I was both privileged and honored to have known and loved both of these sisters. The down to earth sister walked by my side for forty seven years, in marrying her I became the big brother to the wild child. Over many years I witnessed firsthand the love they had for each other and saw the heartbreak in their final parting. I feel their loss equally for they were embedded deeply in my life and my heart.
    
     " Between sisters, often, the child's cry never dies down. " Never leave me, " it says " Do not abandon me." "
                Louise Bernikow

                     Never in life did they abandon each other, neither will they do so in death.
                                                               In Loving Memory

               Linda Jean Dingman Riggan                                          Eileen Carol Dingman Foote
              
        March 30, 1949 - September 12, 2014                              January 11, 1952 - July 17, 2015


    

Back In The Day

                                                    Back In The Day


     Back in the day, when I was young and quite often foolish, I worked for a bank collecting past due debt from credit card accounts. I traveled all over middle and eastern Tennessee, southern Kentucky and northern Alabama and I did it before there was such things as GPS, map quest and cell phones. In my travels I encountered people of all walks of life and found myself in some rather strange situations from time to time.
     Back in the day, when you got away from the big city the post office had what they called "rural routes" instead of street addresses. Some of these rural routes would be well in excess of a hundred miles long, many of those miles would be on narrow dirt or gravel roads and run a circuitous route leaving the town on one road and returning on another. The only way to find someone living on a rural route was to go to the local post office, for a dollar the post master would give you directions .
     Quite often I was dealing with small town country folk who were nice enough people but they did take a little getting used too. Case in point - one day I was in a small town in Tennessee just above the north western Alabama line, I was looking for a guy who lived on one of the infamous rural routes. I stopped at the local post office and paid the post mistress a dollar for directions to this persons home and this is what I got;

     Post Mistress - "Now honey you just go down hea to the stop sign and turn left then go oh about four or five miles to the big oak"
     Me - "The big oak?" ( I said this with a look of confusion on my face).
     Post Mistress - "Now honey this is the biggest oak tree you have ever seen, you can't miss it, just turn left and go.........".

     So off I go looking for the biggest oak tree I had ever seen and having a 150 year old oak tree in my own back yard I was looking for a monster of a tree. I drove for miles and couldn't find anything that in my mind could be construed as a truly big oak tree so I turned around and went back to the post office.

     Me - "Mam I can't find a big oak tree as you described ".
     Post Mistress - "Oh honey you can't miss it, it's the biggest oak tree you have ever seen".
  
     Small town post offices often were places where the locals would gather to past the time chatting away about the weather, crops, the preacher's sermon or who was doing what to or with whom. It was about this time that an old guy, sitting in the corner listening to our conversation, decided to throw in his two cents worth.

     Old Guy - " Sue do you mean the old oak out by so and so's place"?
     Post Mistress - "Yeah I do".
     Old Guy - "Why they cut that tree down a few months back".

     Now the post mistress turns to me and says - " Now honey once you take a left at the stop sign you just keep going till you get to the big oak stump."
     All I can say is that judging by the stump it must have been one hell of a big oak tree.

                                                      __________________________

     Another day I was in a little town called Coalmont, Tn., It was about the same size as the aforementioned town which had at that time maybe 200 - 300 hundred people. I was looking for a guy whose name sounded something like Albert  J. Jackson or maybe it was John S. Smiley, it has been a long time ago.
     Any way I stop at the post Office and give the Post Master his dollar and told him I was looking for John Smiley.

     Post Master - "Well sir we have eight John Smileys living here, what is the route he lives on".
     Me- " Route four".
     Post Master - " well that narrows it down a might, there are five that live on route four, does he have a middle initial"?
     Me - "S"
     Post Master - " Well that cuts it down to three".

     To make a long story short, after divulging employers and names of wives it was discovered that the man I was looking for lived three doors down the street.

                                                          _________________________

     I was sent to work collections in the Florence, Al., I was given an account that had been a problem for sometime. The two previous collectors refused to work the account as the man they called on threatened to shoot them or beat them up. I decided to work the account just so I could say that I tried, it turned out that my results were no different than my predecessors.
     Back then the banks had what they called the "right of offset" meaning that if you owed the bank money and were behind on the payments and you had money in the bank the bank could take your money and apply it to your debt, they would notify you after the fact.
     Getting back to the story, later in the afternoon, after being threatened with bodily injury, I stopped by the bank and was going over the accounts with the manager when this account came up, I described my encounter with the debtor and the stories of my predecessors. The balance on the account was about $2000.00 and it was all past due. The managers secretary overheard our conversation and said the name was familiar so she got to digging around and found out he had a checking account with more than $8000.00 in it. The manager had the secretary make out a cashiers check for me for the entire amount of the debt owed, when I got back to the office a few days later I was treated like a conquering hero.
     When I returned to the bank about a month later I asked if there had been any repercussions from the debtor. The bank secretary said the debtor was in the bank about a week after being sent notice of the withdrawal from his checking account, he never said a word but did deposit money and left. In all other respects he was a good customer.

                                                      _______________________

     On the other side of the coin, there was this young family who lived in Stevenson, Al.. They were maybe in their early twenties but more likely in their late teens, they lived in an old wooden framed building that used to be a commercial building like a hardware store with a high wooden front porch and tin roof. There was no insulation and the big double door had a padlock for security.
     They owed about $400.00 and all of it was past due, the bank had already written off the account so that no interest would accrue but the young man was insistent that he pay his debt so once a month a collector would stop by and the young man would reach into the bib of the overalls and pull out a ten dollar bill while making polite conversation. While I was writing out a receipt the young man would stand there in bib overalls and well worn work boots and a baseball cap, his wife who looked to be maybe seventeen and very pretty stood shyly in the doorway holding a baby while two young boys less than four years old held tightly to her skirt - she was barefoot and about five months pregnant.
     As far as I know they never missed a payment.

      It never ceased to amaze me that those who had nothing were usually the ones who were most concerned about the money they owed and they always had something to give me, on the other hand I knocked on doors that were answered by maids and if the debtor was there and would talk to me at all he was usually belligerent and I walked away with nothing but an empty promise.


                                                 ___________________________
 
     One of the biggest challenges of a bill collector was to not get bit by a dog, I was bitten once and thank goodness the dog was old and only had one nub of a tooth left. I did on several occasions have  a run in with dogs.
     This one time I pulled into a long driveway stopping next to the house where a long sidewalk to the front porch met the driveway. I got out of the car and walked about sixty feet down the walk to the front porch and knocked on the front door, after no answer I started writing a note on the back of one of my business cards. As I was writing I heard a sound and looked around to see five Doberman Pincher dogs walking up on the front porch. They seemed to be friendly enough as they sniffed my shoes and pants and they were attentive as I talked to them. It wasn't until I tried to leave that they became a little unruly, now they started barking and blaring their teeth. They surrounded me on all sides and were between me and the car, as I moved they nipped at my pants leg, barked and growled menacingly. All I could do was to keep slowing moving toward the car and when I finally got to the car I made a notation on the file not to come back.

                                               _______________________________

     I became friends with a banker that was about the same age as me, he worked for a bank in the tri-cities area of eastern Tn., Bud was his name. Bud worked at a bank in Bristol which is a city on the state line with Virginia, the state line ran smack dab down the middle of main street.
     Bud liked to drink and have parties but selling alcohol in Bristol, Tn. was illegal but across the street in Bristol, Virginia was a liquor store. I found out that Bud used to buy the cheaper brands of liquor take them home and pour the booze into empty bottles of the more expensive brands, unless you were a connoisseur, which nobody was after a few drinks, you never knew the whiskey in the Makers Mark bottle was actually Old Crow.
     Bud and I went out to dinner one night and I got to telling him a story about a neighbor I had, I could tell stories back then just as easily as I do now. Now this neighbor was a pain in my butt and I was just getting a lot of frustration off my chest. Bud thought this was the funniest story he ever heard and nearly fell out of his chair from laughing so hard, the people around us were starting to get annoyed. I finished the story and Bud settled down then we parted for the night.
     The next day I met Bud at the bank and he told me he wanted to show me his fathers recording studio, turns out his father was a record producer for gospel groups and had a thriving business. I agreed to go with him that night. I met Buds father and toured the studio and we talked a while, then Buds father told me that Bud had told him the story about my neighbor and they both laughed till they cried. The jest of this get together came to light as the old man told me one of the things he had always wanted to do was to produce a comedy record album and he thought that I could be the next great comedian.
     I turned down the offer of fame and prosperity and now that I am supposedly older and wiser I wonder if maybe this was an opportunity missed, one of the great mistakes of my life. Just think of it, I could have been on the tonight show - as host !
    

                                               ____________________________________


     I enjoyed my time at the bank, I enjoyed the travels and the people I encountered. Life in the seventies was different than today, back then you had a job to do and were given time to perform it without someone standing over you urging you to go faster. Most employees liked their jobs and held the company in high esteem, the company usually took care of it's employees and a life long bond existed between them. Many people retired from the one job they held for thirty plus years and were proud of it. By comparison we didn't make a lot of money but it seemed to go further. Linda and I were happy and had every thing we needed and most things we wanted.
     I can't say when the world turned into a fast paced race to the finish but it did. I guess as you get older it may be harder to see the future when the end is so close, so you tend to look backwards to what you know, to a place where you were happy and wonder where it all went. I can only hope that my sons will one day look back on happier times and reminisce with fond memories of the best days of their lives.
































































 

Father's Day Memories

                                    Father's Day Memories




     " From the darkness of despair a child's laughter brightens the day."
         Mike Riggan


     I have been living in a dark place for a long time now. I wallowed in sadness, anger, self pity and many other maladies associated with grief. What has kept me going is the love of my family and support of my friends, I have to wonder where I would be without them.
     The one person who has been my most staunch supporter doesn't even know what she has done for me because of her youth and innocence. Every time I see her she lights up my life with her smile and I can't wait to pick her up and hold her in my arms, it is these times that I know my life has been a success. When leaving her the darkness slowly creeps back. Of course I am talking about my Granddaughter - Michaela Judy Riggan, MJ for short. I love this little girl more than life.
     Many months ago I started picking her up and taking her out for the day, just the two of us. We went to parks and I watched as she walked around soaking in all of the sights and sounds that were new to her, sometimes we just went to my place and I would watch her play.
     Today was Fathers Day - June 21, 2015, and it was just as special as any day that I can spend with her. Her father, Danny, had made plans with me that we should take MJ fishing for the first time. I wasn't so sure that this would work out because she is only 2 1/2 yrs. old but it was a time for which I have been waiting. My sister Vickie had bought her a fishing rod a long time ago and I recently bought her a life jacket for riding on my boat.
     When I arrived to pick them up MJ was sitting in her chair eating and watching fishing shows with her Dad. When she heard me coming in the room she looked up as she always does with a big smile on her face and when I freed her from the chair she came into my arms and I got my hug. She was eager to go.
     When we got to the lake she was scared by the sound of the motor being raised and had to be held by her Dada until he could calm her down. She wasn't to sure about the moving boat so I took things slow and easy at first. We stopped at the first fishing spot and I held her in my lap as I worked the trolling motor to guide us into a place I thought might hold a Bream or two,.She pointed at different things on the bank that I had seen hundreds of times but she was seeing for the first time with the wide eyes of a child. I couldn't understand every word she said but to watch her soaking up so many new sights and sounds is a process I never tire of. She watched carefully as her Dada baited the hook with a wriggling worm and then again as the bobber floated on the water.
     We didn't get any bites at the first spot and I commented to Danny that this would not be good if the fish didn't bite so we moved to another spot. The second fishing hole proved to be better. MJ seemed to be interested in the fundamentals of fishing but she didn't want to have much to do with holding the rod or reeling in the fish, she kept giving the rod to me or Danny but she did get excited about the fish we caught.
     Her attention span was that of a two yr. old and she soon decided that she wanted to play with the rod so Danny removed the hook and attached a pink plastic fish. MJ would drop the fish and bobber in the water and pull it out and wave it around proclaiming - I think - that she had caught a fish. She walked around in the confines of the boat which can be tight and I thought a couple of times that we may have to fish her out of the water but when she squirmed thru a tight spot she would stand up and say  with glee that she "did it ".
     Once the fishing petered out we went for a boat ride bouncing across the waves at 35 mph and she sat in Dada's lap without so much as a whimper. We'll make a fisherman out of her yet.
     The day brought back memories of the day I went with Danny and Clay on their first boat ride and fishing trip with my sister Vickie and her husband Larry. I remember the joy and laughter as they held up their first catch, it was, like today, one of those moments of fatherhood that a man knows life doesn't get any better.  There were three generations of the family on the boat today , I will be long gone by the time there is a fourth generation and such an event will happen again, maybe the fish will bite better then but it won't matter because all that will matter will be the sharing of time with people that love each other.
     Later that afternoon I was treated to dinner along with Marie's Mom and Dad, Clay was there and I watched as MJ crawled up into Clays lap for most of the dinner. I held and played with Matthew who will someday go for a ride on Grandpa's boat to catch his first fish and brighten an old man's day.
     The day ended and I went home to a house full of memories and stuffed a new memory into the album of my life, one that I will cherish in a time when all I can do is sit in an old chair looking thru a window remembering the happy times.

The Seventeenth Of June

                                           The Seventeenth of June





     Today is June 17, 2015, it's a Wednesday and for most people it bears no meaning in particular.
In fact it is a very special day because forty eight years ago Linda and I said our vows becoming husband and wife.
     This was always a special day for Linda, it ranked as high as her birthday and I was expected to remember it with flowers, kisses and whispers of "I love you". Like many husbands I occasionally forgot, especially in the early years, and would spend many hours apologizing profusely for the oversight. One year it cost me $300 and a day of planting shrubs she had purchased in lieu of the bouquet I should have purchased.
     Forty eight years is a long time yet when you close your eyes and allow the mind to traverse backwards it only takes a few moments, the memories are fleeting but very clear as if they were only yesterday. Forty eight years filled with laughter and tears, joy and hope and love for each other.
     There will be no celebration today, no flowers, no kisses or whispers of "I love you". I can't hold her and bury my face in her hair and smell her essence which is fast becoming a memory, instead I will spend the day with Marie, MJ and Matthew and Linda's sister Vicki and niece Chelsea. I will hold my grandkids close inhaling the essence of her legacy and know that in them Linda lives on, her blood and mine plus that of thier parents pulses thru their bodies and thru the bodies of those to come, in this respect we are together and always will be. I will spend the day in memory because that is all that is left.
     Happy anniversary Sweetheart, I love you and miss you.
 
    

Goodbye

                                                                   Goodbye


     Interstate 75 thru Georgia and Florida is a road I have traveled many times since 1965 and here I am again heading south. Usually these trips are for pleasure though a few were for business and usually Linda is sitting in the passenger seat beside me, she would be singing along with the radio or crocheting something or maybe just letting me hold her hand as we talked while I drove. I am retired now so this isn't a business trip and while I always enjoy seeing Eileen and Ken I take no pleasure in this visit because I am going to say goodbye to Eileen.
     Eileen is not doing so well, Ken says she has not been feeling well since the first of the year, recently she has made a couple of trips to the emergency room. Her heart is giving out and there is nothing that can be done to fix it, the prognosis is that she has weeks left - how many is a question for which there is no answer. This is not one of those times where I can send a get well card or make a phone call that ends in a simple goodbye.
     This last year has taught me some things - 1. It makes no matter how happy you are in life or how well things are progressing something is going to happen to make you will realize that sometimes life sucks. 2. If I have learned anything from the events of the past year it would be that the hardest part of getting older is letting go of the people that were so much a part of your life, leaving you with nothing but memories. Yep, sometimes life sucks!
     Though there are hundreds of cars on the road yet I am lonely. Every exit holds a memory from the past fifty years, the radio can not compensate for the sweetness of Linda's voice so the memories keep me company. My mind ignores the radio and road sounds, it tells me this is too soon after Linda's passing, Eileen is too young, why am I not the one with a bad heart I am after all older than either one of them, what am I going to say to her, how am I going to say goodbye to another person that I love? The trip was long and tiring.
     Ken had a pizza waiting when I got there, we ate and talked. Eileen can't figure out what all the fuss is about, she knows she has been given six weeks to live but she feels good. Ken and Eileen are handling this much like Linda and I did - with a mixture of hope and reality. Linda was given months to live and she made plans for seven or eight months away, Eileen isn't looking that far down the road but she is looking past six weeks. The reality is that, like Linda, her time is short, her condition will not improve. Knowing that you will have to eventually let go of a loved one is the hardest part of holding on to them.
     Ken and I went fishing the next morning, we talked of many things while waiting for something to take the bait. Having walked the path he is now on I tried to pass along some knowledge of things to come and we made plans for future fishing trips. The rest of the day was filled with a nap, a lot of reminiscing and another trip to the fishing hole. The next morning we went fishing again and when we returned Eileen was awake and excited that two of her friends were going to take her fishing later that day. Ken and I went to breakfast, when we returned Eileen was still there, she had decided that she didn't feel well enough to go fishing after all. We all decided to take a nap.
     My plan was to stay thru Friday night and leave early Saturday morning but the reason I made the trip lingered in my mind like a six hundred pound gorilla, Ken and Eileen knew about the gorilla too and like me we avoided thinking about him. My nap was short and fitful so I got up and we all talked more about the past, it was good to hear Eileen laugh and I didn't care how loud she got, I didn't even care how many times she repeated herself.
     Ken asked about what we wanted for dinner and this was where my reality set in. I was hear to say goodbye to another person I loved and cared about, I didn't want to do it. I am tired of being sad, I am tired of tears flowing down my cheeks, I am tired of life changing direction on me.
     I looked at them and asked if they would mind if I left early, I think we all knew what was going on - the gorilla had to be dealt with. I loaded my things in the truck and as I came back in Eileen was getting off the couch, she said she had enough strength to stand for a hug. When we embraced I told her I was going to miss her, she told me the same then we kissed and hugged again, we both had tears in our eyes as I whispered in her ear to tell Linda that I still loved her, she hugged me tighter before letting me go. Ken stood with tears in his eyes and we hugged, then with out another word I turned and walked out.
     As I drove away I looked back to the house for a final wave of the hand but there was no one standing at the door or in front of the picture window, the gorilla was gone but the pain he caused would linger for a while.
     I'm back on the interstate heading north this time, once again memories help me to pass the time. It is not the memories that make me sad and lonely because I have nothing but good memories about Linda and Eileen. The memories are just caught up in the process of grieving that still has a tight grip on me and now I have more grief to deal with, life does indeed suck from time to time.
    


              "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened"

           Dr. Seuss

No Need To Worry Any More

                        No Need To Worry Any More




     Today, Linda's sister Vicki decided to throw a party for my 68th birthday. I tried to talk her out of it and have her wait until the milestone 70th birthday just two years from now but she insisted. The family gathered at Vicki's house for the festivities. I had picked up M.J.from Danny and Marie, she and I did some shopping along the way. Shortly after arriving Danny, Marie and Matthew showed up followed by my sister Vickie and Maggie and Clay.
      I had some things for Clay in my truck so he and Maggie walked out with me to get them. It was there that they informed me that Clay had proposed to Maggie during a short get away this weekend, they were engaged. The fact that they were someday going to marry was never a doubt in my mind but there was always a wondering as to when Clay would ever get around to popping the question. I hugged them both and kissed Maggie on the head as I did so. I have long thought they loved each other, both Linda and I had eagerly looked forward to having Maggie as a daughter - in - law. With out a doubt I am this day a proud father.
     Since Linda's passing I have experienced moments of sadness brought on by memories that pop up from the depths of my mind. I recently changed my route to my grief counseling sessions because the road was the same one that I always took when taking Linda to her Dr appointments or following the ambulance to the emergency room. The other day I cleaned the back deck for the first time since Linda died, I bought new seat cushions for the chairs and then I relaxed in the chair that Linda always sat in and looked out over the back yard just as she did. We spent many hours on that deck and now I wonder why I went to the trouble, the memories are still strong and painful.
     Today is the first birthday I have celebrated without Linda beside me since 1966 and as we gathered around each other and talked of various things I couldn't help but feel the emptiness from Linda's absence. Today the announcement that Clay and Maggie were engaged brought back one of the more touching memories of Linda.
     One of the most endearing qualities of Linda was her caring for the people that meant the most to  her. You see Linda always put others well being ahead of her own. She always made sure that the boys and I had everything we needed or even wanted before she took care of her needs. This time last year she told me I needed to look for another wife because I needed someone to take care of me, she was afraid I wouldn't take care of myself and I must admit there are times I think she may have been right. After she was pronounced terminal I caught her in a moment of despair, she was concerned about Clay which was not something new, she was always concerned about Clay he was after all her baby and he held a special place in her heart just as Danny held a special place because he was her first born. She was deeply concerned that M.J. would not remember her and that she would not get to hold Matthew in her arms. She was even concerned for her dog Lizzy. She was concerned for Marie in that her pregnancy would go well and that Maggie would finally get Clay to propose. She didn't want her family and friends locked in long periods of mourning.
     For the last three years or more and especially the last couple of months of her life, I spent a lot of time telling her everything was going to be alright even when I knew there was room for doubt in my own mind. I knew that we all would suffer from her absence just not to what extent. I didn't know how the boys or her sisters truly felt because I couldn't bring myself to talk to them about my own feelings. It was like there was this elephant in the room, we all knew it was there but nobody wanted to admit it was there so we didn't talk about it. I got to the place where I needed help so I started attending grief counseling meetings months ago, they have been a big help for me. I am at the point now that I am like a man standing on the boat dock of the past with one foot on the boat of the future, the boat is slowly drifting away, the gap widening ever so slowly and I must decide if I will stay on the dock filled with grief or step on the boat of my new life without Linda. I am so close to stepping off of the dock and on to the boat letting the tide take me away to a time when all of my memories of Linda are happy ones void of the tears of despair and loneliness.
     I looked around at my family and decided we were like families every where that have suffered the loss of a loved one. We hurt and cry, we grieve in our own way some more than others, some longer than others and then we move on, sadness and pain is slowly replaced by happiness and smiles of the good times we had.
     Having said all this I can say to Linda that her worries are unfounded, you did your job well and though we may for a while longer wear a mask to hide our pain we will be alright. We will continue to miss you and love you but we will be alright. You can rest now your work is done, you don't need to worry any more.

   

T-shirts

                                                        T- SHIRTS



     In 1904 the Cooper Underwear Co. ran an advertisement for bachelors that introduced a crew neck undershirt that instead of having buttons down the front it could be pulled over the head. This was the birth of what we now call the T- shirt. General acceptance of this garment came about in 1913 when the U.S. Navy began issuing T-shirts as part of the clothing to be worn by sailors. The Army soon followed suit as did millions of workers from farmers to dockworkers and businessmen.
     The author F. Scott Fitzgerald is credited with coining the name "T-shirt" in his 1920 novel "This Side Of Paradise". The name correctly described the shirt when it was on a flat surface, F. Scott used the term to describe an item of clothing young boys packed when they left for boarding school.
     In 1950 T-shirt ownership was so widespread that the next logical progression entered the scene. The Miami based Tropix Togs entered into a deal with Walt Disney and the state of Florida to print images on shirts, Mickey Mouse was emblazoned on peoples chest nationwide and do you remember the shirts that said "someone I know went to Florida and all I got was this shirt "? Thus T-shirts as an advertising tool was born, the unknowing or uncaring public would purchase a T-shirt from a business with the company logo on it and walk around displaying the shirt for all to see, the company not only made money from the sale of the shirt it got free advertising to boot.
     By 1967 T-shirts became placards for all sorts of images from pop art to political statements and comic images, if you couldn't find one to express your ideas there were shops who would print whatever you had on your mind. Today T-shirts are sold in practically every type of business from the local convenience store to big dept. stores and even building material stores. Every tourist area has several shops devoted to nothing but T-shirts of all persuasions of color and graphics.
     Today 95 % of Americans wear T-shirts on a daily basis. I started wearing T-shirts when I was a kid in the 1950's, it was then that T-shirts were considered underwear to be worn under your shirt except those T-shirts worn during gym class, they usually were in the school colors and had the school name emblazoned on the back or front. From then on I was seldom without my T-shirt, I am writing this wearing a shirt that declares me to be a "Top Dad".
     Over the years Linda and I collected and wore many T-shirts of various colors decorated with all sorts of images both serious and comical. I am sure I once had a Budweiser shirt, I drank enough of their beer that I should have bought stock in the company.
     I had a friend named Mike, we were the same height and build but he was 10 years older than me and our mutual friends jokingly called us old Mike and young Mike. This disturbed old Mike so he came up with the idea of each week we would jump on a set of scales, he who weighed the most would be known as fat Mike for the next week. Linda and I moved to Florida but we kept up the relationship and on a visit to see us Mike walked in and tossed a bright orange T-shirt to me, it had "Fat Mike " imprinted on the front. Because of our friendship I wore the shirt everywhere over the next few years, it drew many chuckles and remarks from strangers and made a good conversation piece, it was all in good fun.
     While living in Florida I did something to help out a friend and they were so happy about the outcome that they said "damn you're good", I adopted the phrase and used it often. My friends gave me a key chain (which I still carry today ), it has a flat well worn piece of metal embossed with black letters "Damn I'm Good". My mother heard about the story and for Christmas gave me a T-shirt with the words "Damn I'm Good"written across the front. Again it was all in good fun and I was proud to wear the shirt everywhere.
     Linda has also been the recipient of many T-shirts over the years, one in particular was when she was pregnant with Danny. One of the big baby shower gifts of the day was an extra large T-shirt big enough to decently cover a bulging belly, it said "our baby is here" and there was an arrow pointing down to the belly. Having waited for twelve years for this kid to come along she was happy to display her condition to the whole world. Weekends would often find us at the Disney World hotel complex walking around checking out the various festivities they had, there was always a crowd. One weekend as we walked around the complex holding hands I noticed people smiling and even snickering as we passed them, it finally dawned on me that Linda about eight months pregnant wearing her "our baby is here" shirt and me walking beside her wearing my "damn I'm good" shirt. Guess we did cause quite a few snickers and giggles.
     Over the years I have worn all manner of T-shirts most were decorated with company logo's, colorful fish or scenes of leisure. Clay had a friend who worked for a company that had a large quantity of shirts made for a customer who happened to be a contractor, the shirts were red with white lettering and they had a pocket on the front, the problem was that they misspelled something and had to throw them out. Clay's friend got hold of the shirts and I wound up with at least a dozen or more. I wore the shirts to work and around the house for ten years or more, in some circles I was known as that man in the red shirt, I had enough of them to wear every day for about two weeks.
     Linda had many T-shirts that she wore for all occasions, she bought few of them as friends gave her most of them. The shirts were decorated with the American flag, birds, butterflies, puppies, angels and flowers. One plain shirt had holes in it from the parrot she had, Mango the bird would climb around the shirt as she sat crocheting and bite holes in the shirt. The bird was loud and obnoxious but the two of them were a pair, she cried for days when it died, she didn't give up the shirt for a couple of years afterward, it was her Mango shirt.
     When Linda died I washed all of her clothes and put them away as if she would need them again soon. I asked several of her friends if they would like some of Linda's things as a reminder of her, they said they needed nothing to remind them of Linda. Linda's clothes have hung in the closet untouched for months. Her T-shirts were many and varied in style, color and content, most were given to her, maybe she bought a couple because they were cute. Some were threadbare and faded but she couldn't bear to give them up, they each had a special meaning for her, but more importantly they had a special meaning for the people that loved her.
     I recently offered the kids any of Linda's clothing they may want before I pass them along to some charity. Marie wanted the shirt Linda was most noted for, across the front it said " I have a coupon for that". Maggie on the other hand hated to see any of the shirts go away so I told her to take what she wanted then I told her about Linda making a couple of memory quilts for people. The idea was to use articles of clothing ( mostly T-shirts ) from a deceased person to make quilt squares, each square represented a memorable moment in that persons life. Maggie seemed to think a memory quilt would be a good use for Linda's T-shirt collection, she walked out with a couple of large bags full of clothing. I will look forward to seeing the quilt when she finishes it.
     According to the internet, 9 out of 10 Americans have at least one T-shirt they refuse to throw away because of a sentimental attachment. I have forty seven years of memories of Linda and her T-shirts each one is special and will never be thrown out.