I feel a bit like Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window, but I see this playing out a couple times a week from my rear apartment window. These two seniors are are doing what countless millions do daily for their loved ones. This old lady is barely able to push this guy, presumably her husband, in his wheelchair, let alone help him maneuver himself into the car. He has lost a leg. She will put that board on the seat and then next to him and he'll slide on the board to get in the car. After that she will barely be able to get the wheelchair into the trunk of the car. It is a long process and I am amazed at what we do for each other, long after what we signed up for, in our youth, has ceased to exist. It is a testament to who we are and how we seek "to" love. These old guys are nearing the end and one must feel admiration for continuing the battle to make it through each day.
Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless. Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001. It was one of those things that can generate crime: two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job. Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things. Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold. But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find. His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead. He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds. He will be paralyzed for life. None of this is pleasant. Reading the f...
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