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6 The Villager July 6, 2018 nhvillagernewspaper.com
out of the wreckage which made the front regime that had made us flee? What if my
Straight Talk
Straight Talk page of newspapers world-wide, and won mother, with her three young daughters,
the photographer a Pulitzer. It shows my knew what fate awaited us if we got into the
two sisters, ages 8 and 11, bedraggled and hands of violent, hostile armies?
By Representative Marjorie Porter wrapped in blankets, walking a bit ahead of I know by the look in her eyes she would
my mother, who was clutching me in her be determined to get us someplace safe.
arms. My grandmother is behind us, holding She would have walked miles—hundreds of
An important family anniversary hit me and came back to find our home was gone. her head, and my grandfather protected us miles even—to seek asylum for us.
particularly hard this year, and I am begin- My father was at work. He finally found from behind. We are stepping over electrical And what if, when she finally reached a
ning to understand why. us hours later, after searching all the area wires, which, yes, were live. place she understood to be safe, suddenly
th
June 9 marked the 65 anniversary of hospitals. If you research the tornado of ‘53, as I her three daughters were taken from her?
the Worcester tornado. It struck around There are many family stories about what have, you will most likely see us as we were Removed to a place unknown, not heard
4:30 in the afternoon, and for ninety min- happened, told over and over as I was grow- that day. Several show a close-up of my from again for weeks and months, if ever?
utes this powerful storm traveled 48 miles, ing up. How my oldest sister—she was mother and me, and it’s my mother’s face And what would have happened to my
ripping through Worcester and surround- 11—somehow knew to take us to the safest that has struck me so powerfully this year. sisters and me, left to deal with the trauma
ing towns. It left a swath of death and spot in the house, while my mother futilely She is so young—younger than my daugh- alone, no loving family to comfort us? How
devastation behind. Ninety-four people tried to close the garage door. How a cast ter is now. Her eyes are looking down, her would we have dealt with not knowing
lost their lives, more than a thousand were iron bathtub missed landing on my middle mouth is set. She has just lost her home, but when we would see our mother again? Who
injured, and four thousand homes and sister by mere inches. How they couldn’t find she has her children with her, and her look would rock us when we cried?
buildings were destroyed. me until I opened my eyes, my face was so tells me she is determined to get them to The anniversary of the tornado hit me hard
Our neighborhood took a direct hit. My dirty. How while searching for us for hours, safety at all cost. this year, and the news from the southern
father’s parents lost their home, and their all my father could think of was that he had I usually try to avoid talking about nation- border haunts me. All those mothers, and all
lives, that day. So did many, many of our not kissed my mother goodbye before he went al issues when I write for you. I have no those children, who have lost everything and
neighbors. to work that day. more knowledge of what goes on in Wash- now have lost each other. Who is there for
The two-family home we shared with my The processing took decades, and we ington than you do. But it’s that look on them? What are their nightmares made of?
mother’s parents was destroyed—actually all were marked forever by the trauma we my mother’s face that tells me I can’t avoid I don’t claim to know much about what
turned upside-down. But somehow we endured, even with a strong and loving fam- it this time. goes on in Washington, but I do know right
managed to make it out alive--my grand- ily around us. Strong storms frighten us still, I just keep thinking, what if it weren’t a from wrong. Separating children from their
mother, my mother, my two sisters, and and we are always sure to kiss our loved-one natural disaster that destroyed our home and families is wrong.
6 me. goodbye when we leave. our life? What if, instead, it was gang vio- I have been a mother, and I have been a
My grandfather had gone to the store, There’s an iconic picture of us walking lence, or civil war, or a brutal governmental child, and I know.

Back in my naive days, I thought it I should negative. A whoosh of all possible medical
rouse him and direct him to bed. This didn’t mishaps shot through my brain. Was Late
work very well. First, he is too big for me Night TV Guy (gulp) all right?
to move myself. I had to wake him – really I had to check on him. I wouldn’t wake
wake him – to get him to stand up on his him, just make sure he was breathing. I’d
Late Night TV Guy pays no heed to bedtimes own. Once asleep, Late Night TV Guy probably hear him sawing logs from the top
of the stairs.
doesn’t want to be really awake. He’d rather
roll over and catch a few more Z’s. Plus The night house was quiet – an omnious
For the most part, my husband is a It is on these nights that I know he has (again, I never said this) Late Night TV Guy sound. As I tiptoed toward the family room,
rational and logical human being. There is become Late Night TV Guy. can be rather grouchy when pulled from a I could make out his shape on the couch.
an orderly and predictable pattern to his Late Night TV Guy truly believes he needs good dream. I crept closer, my heart beating fast now,
Cyan Magenta Yellow Black
days. He showers in the morning; brushes no sleep. He is wide awake, with a tenured I’ve learned it’s best to embrace Late Night and tried to see if his chest was rising and
his teeth after meals. He rises early and spot on the couch. Unless he has a craving TV guy’s nocturnal ways. When you’ve been falling. I couldn’t tell.
goes to bed at a reasonable hour. He is a for a bowl of ice cream with chocolate married to someone for decades, you come I didn’t want to disturb him – just wanted
reasonable man – for the most part. sauce, he isn’t moving – no way no how – to terms with each other’s unconventional to make sure he was alive. So I crouched
On occasion, however, something peculiar until some late night show, probably about quirks. I put up with Late Night TV Guy down and gently, ever so gently, put my
overtakes him and he becomes a mysterious history or sports, is over. and he puts up with a couple dozen or more index finger under his nose. It was at that
stranger not concerned with clocks or Invariably, by about 11 p.m., Late Night of my (tiny) eccentricities, not the least of exact moment he decided to jump about two
bedtimes. About once a month, he becomes TV Guy can be found, head tilted back, which includes giving him a starring role in feet into the air. I jumped, too.
inexplicably and permanently rooted to the breaths vibrating audibly in the indisputable this article. He was alive – and awake. “What’re you
couch, remote control in hand. The hours rhythm of slumber – but don’t tell him I I most definitely have the best end of that doing?” he rightfully demanded.
tick by and he isn’t moving until after some told you so. He is watching TV (wink). Just deal. In half a millisecond, my fear segued to
very late show is over. leave him be.
Time has taught me that Late Night TV embarrassment. What was I supposed to
Guy will come to bed on his own. He just tell him? “Oh, sorry, Honey, I just thought
needs a little nap on the couch first. maybe you were dead so I was feeling for
Usually, by about 1:00 a.m., I roll over and air under your nose.” I didn’t think he’d buy
he is there, right where he’s supposed to be, that one.
sleeping with the happy confidence of a man So, I just turned and went up to bed. He
who knows he can make it through Saturday followed behind me.
Editor and Publisher: George Maidrand The Villager is a weekly newspaper covering Antrim, Benning- Night Live any day of the week. When you’ve been married to someone for
Managing Editor: Michael Pon ton, Bradford, Contoocook, Deering, Hillsborough, Henniker, Last night, Late Night TV Guy seemed lots of years, you come to terms with each
Hopkinton, Warner, Washington, Weare, and Windsor.
Sports Reporters: The Villager welcomes letters, features, guest columns and pic- especially excited to watch an important other’s unconventional quirks. As you can
John Segedy tures of local interest. Correspondence may be sent to: baseball (or maybe it was basketball) game, probably guess, I’m chock full of ‘em, not
Advertising: 603-680-4142 The Villager • P.O. Box 2037 so at about 10:00 I checked the fridge to the least of which includes night stalking.
Graphic Designer: PJ Fischer Hillsborough, NH 03244 make sure we had ice cream and went to Dealing with Late Night TV Guy is minor in
Phone: (603) 680-4142
Circulation: Joe Gould We are located at Eaton Plaza, W. Main St., Hillsborough bed. The last I saw, Late Night TV Guy was comparison to the adventures I put us through.
Contributors: in position on the couch with the remote Thankfully, Late Night TV Guy is an
Marjorie Porter, Aaron Gill Email editorial to: securely in place in his right hand. adventuresome sort.
Jim Bailey, Benjamin Trumble, michael@nhvillagernewspaper.com Next thing I knew, it was 4:00 in the morning
Robin Sweetser and Jill Pertler Email advertising to: and the spot next to me on the bed was cold Jill Pertler is an award-winning syndicated
Front page Folk Art Village by special arrangement george@villagernewspaper.com and empty. 4:00 am! Within three seconds, I columnist, published playwright, author
with Artist Barbara Appleyard. was wide awake and filled with the vibe that and member of the National Society of
“Serving the Contoocook Valley” wives and mothers know best – worry. Newspaper Columnists. Don’t miss a slice;
My thoughts immediately focused on the
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