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Linda DeMers Hummel

Years ago, I watched my brother’s kids for a week while he and his wife went on vacation. I stayed at their house in my hometown. I cooked the meals and got their kids to and from school — Raymond J. Lockhart School — the same one I went to.

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I’m traveling, today, back to my hometown for a short visit. When I was in my thirties and forties, there

The first time I heard, “Hey, Buzzard!” in my direction, I was 12. His name was Walter.

For part of 1932, my grandmother served oatmeal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the only food they could afford. When

Years ago my mother was visiting from Long Island. With fanfare she rarely called into action, she said, “I brought

In my family it is known as the “Jongebloed Hip.” Amazingly it is even less glamorous than its name.

“Just one?” I wish restaurant hostesses wouldn’t use this phrase.