Page 39 - Always Virginia
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Always Virginia                                      27


             Daddy would think I’d been bad in school as they were very strict,
             though kind and loving.
                If we were sick, Daddy would come up to our room after sup-
             per and visit with us an hour or so. He was a US mail carrier and
             we always wanted to go with him on his rural route, but couldn’t
             unless he paid postage on us. That’s what he always said. On our
             birthday we girls, Norine and I, got to go once. The boys, my older
             brothers, John and Jimmie, were Daddy’s subs as was my cousin
             Joe, so they were allowed to go with him. It wasn’t a very long mail
             route, but in those days in bad weather, Daddy’d have to go by
             horse and buggy. We had two horses, Snip and Topsy.
                There were many creeks that would swell when it rained and
             one day my Daddy and cousin Joe almost drowned when they were
             swept away in a red Model T Ford in one of the smaller creeks. I can
             remember Mom lighting candles at home and praying for Daddy
             as maybe it’d be 6 P.M. in bad weather when Daddy would get
             home. That night he got home much later, because it took awhile
             for his Model T to float into the trees and get caught so he and
             cousin Joe could climb out and save themselves. Sometimes he’d
             get home at 8 or 9 and would always leave before 7 A.M., go to
             post office, put up his mail, and leave. On good days he’d leave
             at 7 and maybe be home at noon. One day he had an unexpected
             piece of mail with him: my black bloomers. Mom and Norine and
             I searched the house for them before I went to school, and much to
             our surprise Daddy said he picked them up with some of his things.
             Norine said my bloomers got to go on the postal route before I did.
                At Christmastime Daddy would come home like Santa Claus
             loaded down by his mail patrons with goodies like fresh country
             sausage and all good farm things like that. We had so much we
             shared them with the priest and sisters who lived in the St. Anselm
             rectory and convent across the street from us.
                Speaking of the priest, he had a housekeeper who had a daugh-
             ter my age named Elizabeth. One day I was engrossed playing ball
             out in front of my house and Elizabeth kept calling me. I told her
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