SUNDAY FUNNIES: ACES HIGH: NEW C. O..

Art by Jack Davis.  

Click on each image to be able to read it and make it better.

2008 Bell Reunion, Marietta, Georgia

I just posted on my flickr page pictures I took of the Bell Reunion in 2008.  If you are in your late 60s or 70s chances are you will recognize some of these people.  Also, if you know them well, you will see some that are no longer with us.

One thing we all have in common, during our reunions we suddenly become elderly teenagers.

Click below:



http://www.flickr.com/photos/chicken-fat/sets/72157634375440972/

My Get Well Blog Post

People get get-well cards all the time.  But it is not often a blog post is made in honor of a person ill, hoping he will get well soon.

http://paranoiastrikesdeep.blogspot.com/

My blogging/MAD/ EC-Comics/Spirit Comics/did I miss any?  buddy El Postino did just that  on his blog Paranoia Strikes Deep..  I would tell you of our friendship, how it was nourished about 20 years ago but he El Postino already did that in my get-well post:.  So, I might as well get some Blog mileage out of it too, right?:

Get well quick to my fellow Madman, Eddie

My friend, Eddie, is not feeling too well these days. He’s having some medical problems that we all hope can be taken care of soon. Ed and I met through the old Prodigy service, in 1992, when both we and computer technology were young. We introduced ourselves on a DOS-based bulletin board devoted to EC Comics and specifically Mad, of which we were both lifetime fans.

Eddie, like me, loves the inspired craziness of editor/writer Harvey Kurtzman and artist Will (then known as Bill) Elder.  The title of Eddie’s blog, Chicken Fat, comes from the old Mad comics.

Here’s one of my favorite Mad stories, a spoof called “Frank N. Stein!” I scanned it from a comic book called The Nostalgic Mad. From 1972 through 1980 the publishers of Mad magazines produced eight issues reprinting the best of the classic comic book Mad, which they bound into their issues of Mad Special. This is from issue #15, 1974.

I hope it’ll help Eddie on his road to recovery. Get well soon, Ed!

Today is National Hand Shake Day

Today is National Handshake Day. Handshakes make the word go around, Nation heads shake hands promising each other peace, people shake hand to start interacting, and the all levels of business deals are sealed with a handshake.  If suddenly, we all stopped shaking hands, we all might implode.

Before I went into the Navy I worked at Eastman Atlantic Mfg Co, on Chattahoochee Avenue, in Atlanta.  The branch manager had the worse grip of anybody I ever shook hands with.  I always felt a firm handshake was a sign that they appreciated that they were shaking hands with me.  The branch manager would present his hand, so to speak, limp and dangling,  did he expect people to kiss it and then courtesy?

23 Sikdoo!

My kin living the fast life in Marietta, Ga, c1921 - 22:

My uncle Herbert Hunter and his uncle Ed Tyson (my great uncle), two wild and crazy guys on the prowl.

The young lady on the right is my aunt Beatrice Hunter, which would become Bee Hunter Crain in the near future.

Little Big Horn

Today in History, 1876, was the Battle of Little Big Horn, also known as Custard's Last Stand.  General George Armstrong Custard was killed in action.  No more primping for George.

Megan McGlover Weighs In on Paula and the N Word

Megan McGlover has a basic realization of what is right and wrong.  She is worth listening to:

Ruth Athea Bruce Prance Nugent

Ruth about 1970

James Earl, Jr "Jamie" Prance and his mother Ruth, August 2010

Ruth Bruce Prance Nugent died Saturday at age 89.  Ruth was Anna's aunt,  Anna's father's brother's wife.  She worked at Riches at Cobb Center in the ladies finer coats and I hear she was a good saleslady.  People asked for her.

I think  the reason she was such a good sales person is because I don't think she was as interested in the product as she was you.  She was very much a person to person type of person.  When I first married into the family in 1967 I was very impressed on how kind and friendly she was.  And later, when our first born Rocky came alone Ruth welcome him with opened arms and had his grandparents bring him over to play at her house  several times.

The last time I saw her was at Lowe's about a year ago.  Her son Jamie was pushing her in a wheelchair.  I think she was in poor health then.  Of course the wheelchair was a giveaway, another reason is that Jamie did all the talking for them - Ruth was not the type to let anyone do all the talking.

My Big Gallbladder Stones Attack Adventure

Several months ago, it might have been as early as fall of last year, at the hospital's imaging center they discovered I had gallstones.   My GP recommended a surgeon.  We visited him and his main question was, "do they bother you?"

"Well, ....no."

He told us many people live a life time with gallstones and never know they have them.   But if I wanted them out they would accommodate me.  It was my call.  A cut in my pretty stomach  My call: NO.

Anna had hers out  about a year earlier when she found she had  gallstones.   A wise choice I found out.

As the months continued I noticed at times when I pigged out on fatty type of  food, or something heavily doused in mayonnaise I got a very stomach-bloated feeling and I had to take it easy for the next day.

My bloatness  times increased.  Did I get the message my body was trying to send me?  It was LOUD and clear (if you get what I mean).  Nope, Good looking mouth watering food overruled any common sense that I may have.

Most recently at a sandwich shop near the hospital which we eat  at occasionally we had chicken salad sandwiches.  Mine was delicious .  But as soon as I had eaten it I realized than I had just been consumed by a big glob of  mayonnaise.  Our roles were reversed,  the mayo was consumer and I was the consumeree. 

I was sick all the next day.

Then just a couple days later we went to an all you can eat country-cooking buffet.  That was on a Monday.  Tuesday morning I was  sick and lifeless which lasted until Friday or Saturday.  By the way, if you are interested in scientific experiments, again I proved that drinking a Coke to settle your stomach is an old wives' tale, it is like throwing gasoline on to a fire..... like I said that is not the first time I disproved that theory.  It seems I would learn, doesn't it?

Saturday  I had part if a sandwich.  I was trying to get well for Fathers' Day the following day . or at least be able to fake it to smile and talk during a meal.  Our son and daughter-in-law and we were going out.  Where they were here we decided instead of food I needed ER treatment.    We spent the rest of the day in the ER and the next 5 days at the hospital.

When we arrived at the ER I was almost immediately sent to a little room, placed in a wheel chair and someone took my vitals and asked how come I was there so they would know what to look for.  There were a few us lined up in little red wheel chairs and the way they were painted and lined up it made be think we were about to partake in a bumper car race.

A male nurse was getting the vitals from someone and he asked the patient what was the problem, or why was he there.  The man said he thought his hand was broken. 

"Why do you think  it is broken?"

"It hurts like it is broken."

"Did you bang it against something?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"A wall".

"A wall?"

"yes, I hit a wall with my first hard".

"Were you trying to hurt someone?"

"No."

"Was someone trying to hurt you?"

"No."

"Were you drinking?"

"Yes, I had a few beers.... look man, I didn't know I was going to be questioned!"

"I have to ask you questions based on what you say..."

An orderly grabbed my wheel chair and began to roll me back.  I wanted to say ask him to wait a few minutes, I'll like to hear the rest of that conversation, but  as discreet as I am, I said nothing.

From this point on the rest of our visit for the next five and half days I found the hospital staff were very friendly and almost everyone had a accent of some kind, I heard Doctor Zhivargo, those two wild and crazy guys on Saturday night Live, Cisco and Puncho, Count Dracula, a KGB spy, and lastly but not least a mixture of Beverly Hillbillies and Hee Haw.

Anna was back with me when we went back to the ER.  We were put in a curtain cubical.  There were three cubicles alongside the wall.  The good thing about curtain cubicles you can overhear everything  the neighbors are saying and the bad thing is that the neighbors can overhear everything you are saying.

A young man in the next cube was born in 1991.  About 22 years old?  By the conversation between him and his medical giver he was in some kind of dirt bike a-rama  thing near either Dallas or Cartersville.  The medic person asked him about how many feet was he in free flight.... I took this as being flung from his vehicle and was flying through the air.  He said, "about 70 feet."

"70 feet?"

"Yes  - the jump is 50 feet.... and  bla bla bla....."

I wanted to holler out, "Speak out!  I can't hear over here!"

And on the other side a young lady or teenager was pregnant.  She just found out.   She was estimated 7 months pregnant.

Speak up!

They determined I was having a gallstone attack.  They could not just remove the gallbladder because there were complications involved:  I am on Plavix, a blood thinner.  They would have to wait until the Plavix to wear off.  Exactly when did I take my last Plavix pill?  That is easy, Saturday night.  They said they could operate on probably Thursday or  Friday.  The second item was my count, whatever that is, and my temperature, and maybe one or two other symptoms which had the signature of a renegade gallstone that might be plugging up a valve hole or something.  They would have the GI group to give me a closer look by MRI and determine where that little rascal renegade gallstone was and then a tube down through me somehow and mechanically pick it up.  Shit!

The surgery coordinator I was assigned to put me on a "nothing by mouth" diet.  Nothing by Mouth means nothing.  I got fluids through the iv and that was it.  Speaking of IVs, my iv tubing was continuously tangling itself up and it would beep  and beep until they came to fix it.  Finally it got where if I just moved my arm slightly it would shot working and start beeping.  The nurses  showed me how to press start again and press the iv selections.  Which I'm sure they enjoyed their extra time.  One day it kept beeping and I couldn't get it back running correctly and the nurse came in several times and got it running but before she left good it would start beeping again.  She told me I was just going to have to keep my hand still.  As she was telling me this and my hand was in plain view being still, it started beeping again.  She called the unit to have them come and jab a new iv hole.

Speaking of holes in my arm, before the week was over both my arms were full of holes and bruises.  I told the nurse drawing blood  when I left there if the cops pulled me over and they saw my arms my car would be searched for sure.  

I should note that I don't think anytime for those five nights in the hospital I got over 20 minutes in a row of good sleep..... well, any sleep.

For five day we saw a long list of professional medical people to come and check on me.  Members of  my cardiologist's staff, doctors and nurses kept the door swinging, along with the GI team members, gastrologists (?), one person with a plastic looking toy that he insisted I blow in every hour, ten times, and one well fit doctor in his 30s who looked like the poster child of an aggressive sportsman  and exerciser, bounded in one day, didn't identify himself, he just ask was I OK, and I said, "Yeah, considering..." and before we could have a chuckle over my wise-crack he was out the door before it even slung shut.  Who was that man?  I bet he is very self-centered and cried when his  Little League team lost and if he ever made a mistake on the sporting field he managed to blame it on someone else.  I guess each of them saying  "Howdy-you-do? will be priced and invoiced and we start seeing statements from various medical groups will start coming soon.

There were one lady that had an interesting air about her. It seems she had a wry smile on her face all the time and seemed to sense the ironic  humor in humans intermingling.  She would usually ask me if they did so and so, and based on what I said she elaborated.    She had an accent and reminded me of a KGB agent - she needed a trench coat to complete my  interpretation of her

One student nurse came through one day with the nurse watching everything she did and wrote it down and sometimes asked her why she did something.  She was a very serious learner.  Later that same day she came back and ask if I mind if she ask me some questions about my illness, which I truthfully answered everything she asked.   Somehow it came out that she loved dogs and she has a part whippet and part something else, but looks like a pit bull dog.  While we were in such a jovial mood talking about our dogs we asked her if she had any children.  She was taken by our question and was silent for a few moments.... damn, what did we say wrong?   Then she finally spoke, saying one thing as a nurse she was taught is not to divulge too much private information about yourself.   Then, she broke her own self-imposed rule and told us she was pregnant.  We congratulated her.  She  left and we didn't see her again.

The older nurses seemed to have cared less about divulging or TMI.  Bah!

During my near-week at the hospital over the PA system they announced "Town Hall Meeting" in the auditorium two to four times a day.   One nurse told me she had been there 31 years and has yet attended one of those meetings, she said she had to eat her lunch working, do I think she was going to waste her work time hearing about the hospital long range plans?  She shooed the thought away like swatting a fly.

Just like the Wheels of Justice move slowly, so do the Wheels of Medicine.  One group can't  make their move until  the group ahead of them do their thing.

But the day we thought the GI people should do their exploring we had the nurse to call and asked when they were going to do me.  They said they had no paper work on me.    Back to the drawing board.

Finally that day or the next they came and did my MIR.  The thing is by the time they got the orders and did the MRI the little renegade gallstone had moved on, probably flushed away with the water the IVs has been dripping into me.  And my temperature was back to normal and so were the numbers. 

My surgery to have the gallbladder removed was Thursday.  A team came in and made sure I was properly cleaned, stripped down with no clothes except my hospital gown, watch removed, and ring we  compromised.  I was rolled onto a gurney and down the corridors and elevators and down more corridors until we reached the operating complex.  While being pushed looking ahead I thought it would be neat to have my camera with me to video the trip down the halls, you see lots of people mulling about talking, reading orders, reading newspapers, and just hanging out.  It would make an interesting video.  Then I thought of how I would look holding a video being gurneyed down the hall and I was reminded me I only had on a hospital gown.  Damn, when the people looked up to see the gurney noise what all did they see flapping in the wind go by them?

In the operating staging cubicles again we had fabric cubicles that you could hear other people talk.  One guy with a very loud voice was telling someone with him he does all kinds of workouts every day in a gym and so far this year has ran over 19,000 miles.  He said an actual number, like 19,745 but I didn't retain it, I wasn't compulsive over his stats as he was.  But I do know he said he ran at least 19,000 miles this year.  That was June 20.  June 20 was the 171st day of 2013.   If you divide 19,000 by 171 you will see that the guy was claiming to average slightly over 111 miles each day.  

That is a lot of time improving one's body for endurance, which is commendable but when did he find time for just routine daily routines like sleep, eating, yard work, whatever.  As he told whomever he was talking to, "I'm the real thing!"

Well, as long as he is still talking he will always have a favorite subject to talk about.

The operation went smoothly, or I suppose it did.  I only remember them putting me back in my hospital bed back in my room.   Additional to my IV they hooked me up to some additional devices or gadgets.  I had an oxygen breathing tube, both lower parts of my legs wrapped in air tubes  that was tighten up whenever they felt it was needed, which was about every ten or fifteen minutes, and maybe a heart monitor, I forgot.

With all the tubes and wires wrapped around me I found it almost impossible to urinate.  There was a plastic urinal by the bed for my convenience but found it hard and complicated to use.  The wires and tubes were pulled tight and some was in a tangle.  It was hard to stand at the edge of my bed and pee into the plastic urinal.  I had to stoop over balanced on one leg with the other pulled upward by the tubes.  They were trying to flush me so was pumping fluids by the IV to I was forced to pee about once an hour, and each time I had to do an acrobatic act.

Now, I had a tube coming out of my stomach into an overflow bottle, so I could not lay on my side.  I cannot sleep on my back.  From exhaustion a couple of times I almost nodded off to sleep only to gently woken by the feeling of huge snakes coiling around my legs.

After a whole night without a wink of sleep a doctor the next morning was telling me what an great invention the tubes around the legs are, he said that will keep you from having cramps.  I told him that thing kept me awake when I could be sleeping and which is more valuable a stroke from sleep deprivation or no leg cramps?  He looked at me with a frozen smile  and left with his clipboard.  

I was released Friday with an overflow tube attached to a little bottle, which I will have to have remove early in the week.  I am gradually getting my appetite and energy back.  Now, it only hurt when I giggle.

PS - One thing I almost forgot, a nurse was helping me one day and was getting me ready for bed and giving me the proper medicines and she asked me, "Do they give you Tylenol at the Home?" 

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! HELP''s GOODMAN BEAVER and Archie

This article written by editor Harvey Kurtzman and illustrated by Will Elder almost caused the end of HELP Magazine.  It's target was the PLAYBOY Lifestyle.  However, the ARCHIE publisher was more offended than PLAYBOY publisher Hugh Hefner.  Go figure.

click on image to enlarge and be able to read

Larry Miller

I received an email from Larry's wife Milly Miller.  Here is a portion of it:

Thank you for re-posting Larry’s fund raising letter so frequently. I wanted to let you know that we have been blessed to receive the maximum matching amount of $10,000. This gives us $20,000 with the matching funds and we believe it should be enough to pay for his prescription drugs as long as my insurance is as good as it is now. That’s a big question with the state of our current health care issues but we have reason to rejoice right now and thank everyone for their help.  PS: he is doing AWESOME. All of his bronchoscopy’s have shown, no infection, no rejection. That is the best you can get. His blood work continues to be very good also. Can’t wait to see everyone again, minus the oxygen tanks.

This has been posted many times. Everyday when I had a new post this one slides down more out of view. When it slides off the page it is time to repost. Hi!

Have you ever faced a life-threatening illness for which there is no treatment or cure?
Have you ever become overwhelmed by the costs of your illness?
Have you ever had to rely on your family and friends to make a life-saving difference on your behalf?

Larry faced these conditions all at once. Larry was diagnosed with Pulmonary Fibrosis, Emphysema, and Pulmonary Hypertension. There are no treatments for these diseases and there was no hope for him without a lung transplant.

Larry was evaluated and approved for a bi-lateral lung transplant at Emory University Hospital in April.

On May 14th Larry received the call from Emory saying they had lungs for him. His transplant was performed on the 15th with excellent results. Due to the generosity of the donor’s family, he received a very healthy set of young lungs (to use the surgeon’s words). Larry is recovering exceedingly well and was released to go home on the 31st of May. He is gaining strength each day by following his drug regimen very carefully and by following a vigorous program of Pulmonary Rehabilitation. 

His recovery is great news, but with it comes enormous annual costs for post-transplant treatments and medications. I have known Larry and been his friend since the 5th grade (1953) so I offered to head up his fundraising committee. We are working to help Larry raise money to cover some of these costs. Fortunately, Larry qualified for a matched account in the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s (GTF) Fundraising Program, GTF will match every dollar we raise up to a maximum of $10,000, and then they will hold the money and administer the distribution for Larry’s medication expenses.

We need Your Support to reach the $10,000 Goal! Please consider making a donation to help us raise the funds Larry will need to buy post-transplant medications which will support the maintenance of his transplant.

How to Donate:
Checks/money orders should be made payable to Georgia Transplant Foundation with Larry’s name in the memo section of your check. Please mail checks/money orders to Georgia Transplant Foundation, Attention: Transplant Fundraising Program, 500 Sugar Mill Road, Suite 107-A, Atlanta GA 30350. An envelope is enclosed for your convenience. Thank you for supporting this life-saving campaign.

The Georgia Transplant Foundation, a non-profit organization that provides financial, educational, and emotional assistance to Georgia’s transplant community, is assisting us in our fundraising efforts. If you have questions or want further verification, please see the Georgia Transplant Foundation website at www.gatransplant.org or email TFP@gatransplant.org.

If you have already made a donation, please accept our thanks.

Sincerely,
Paul Roper
Committee Chairman

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY from the Hunter Boys!

As well as the Hunter old men.
                                                       


                                                            Fathers Day 1981

Rocky and Adam Hunter with their grandfather Ed Hunter Sr

Rocky and Adam Hunter with their Daddy, Daddy Warbucks

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! BRAIN CHILD!

This is from the pages of EC Comics' Weird Fantasy.  The art is by Al Williamson,, who was a legend in science-fi and Fantasy Art.

The story was either co-wrote by Publisher Bill Gaines and editor Al Feldstein or it was plagiarized by the same two.  They openly admitted they stole stories and ideas, they said everybody did in the comic industry.  

My grandfather Frank Paris Hunter (1879-1959)

My grandfather Frank Paris Hunter 1879 - 1950).  Frank was born in Granbury, Hood County, Texas, and died in Marietta, Georgia, at the old hospital.

He was just a babe in arms when his family moved back  east in 1879).  I believe his name was named after their trip, between Paris and Franklin, NC.  They settled near Woodstock, Georgia.  Back in 1864 his father William A. Hunter was shot in the knee at the Battle of Kennesaw Mountain, and recuperated in a private home in Woodstock.  He made friends,  he knew he   and his family would be welcome.

Frank spent most his formative years near Woodstock in the Hwy 92 and Bells Ferry area.  He married a neighbor Minnie Tyson.  They had nine children, eight boys and one daughter.

Frank's occupation was machinist.   He worked for Kraft Foods, The Atlanta Newspapers, and Glover Machinery, within walking distance of their house.

Minnie died  in 1948.  Frank was alone.  We moved in with him.  I was about 7 years old.

Frank taught me how to ride a bike and other joys of growing up paling with your grandpaw.

We had a fireplace in the living room.  It was the only heat we had.  It was in located in the center of the house, it kept all the rooms warm.  Frank got up before everyone else and started the fire in the fireplace.  The fuel was coal.

I was usually the second one up.  One morning I got up and the fire was going and I backed up to the fireplace - a spark popped out of the fireplace and landed on my pajama bottom and instantly my pj bottom ignited into flames.  Frank grabbed me and flung me on the floor and rolled me.  I never seen him act to strangely and rough.  He scared me, but I don't think I realized I was on fire. 

When the action was over my legs and lower torso was burned.  I don't remember being rushed to the hospital, normally my family avoided the hospital whenever possible.

My grandfather Frank Paris Hunter probably  saved my life that morning.

He died not long after that. 

He and Minnie are buried at Mountain View Cemetery, in Marietta, Georgia.

Should Workers get Bonuses for Doing their Job?

Why not?  CEOs do.

In the news lately there has  been some talk about  a local municipality  giving bonuses  to workers with good attendance.  It is a  method to decrease absenteeism and tardiness.     It is a ploy to get people to do what they are suppose to do anyway.

It reminded me of my working days at the Atlanta Post Office.  My reporting time was midnight.  I always allowed myself a leeway in case of  wreck or some other mishap.

Also in our office was a lady named Alice Allen.  Alice was always about ten to fifteen minutes late and called in sick a lot.  She was even late when she called in sick.  According to a formula it was time for her to be suspended for bad attendance.    There are steps before somebody is  suspended.  First  a verbal talking to, next a warning letter, then a ten day suspension,  then a two week suspension, then 30 days, then out the door.

The supervisor liked Alice and didn't want to go through all that with her.  He, she, and I met.  She said she just had a lot of running around to do in the day time and when she finally got to bed she would oversleep.  The boss said that since I am there anyway, about 30 minutes before my reporting time would I, as soon as I walked in call Alice and wake her up.  She did not live that far away.  Alice was a good friend so I was willing to help her, so I said "sure".

I started my off the clock duty as soon as I got in to the office I called and woke her up each night  .  I got creative and would tell her a joke or a bit of gossip.  And her attendance improved, not perfectly, but it did improve.

Then one night our boss called a meeting.  He got us all in the same room and he  presented Alice Allen with incentive award of $250 for the best improved attendance.

Later that night I asked our boss how come I didn't get an award, my attendance was perfect.  He laughed and said the award was for "improved attendance" and I had not improved my attendance, how could I?  It was perfect already.

Grrrrrrrrr.

Jackie Turner has left us

Left to right: Horace Armfield, David Clackum, ?, and Jerry McBee, 2011 Varner Reunion

I learned this morning that an old friend Jackie Turner died a couple of days ago.  As kids we lived on the same street (Manget), on Little League together, and also Boy Scouts.

Although  Jackie's passing was not a surprise , it has been expected for some time, when you learned that it actually happened  the loss is sudden.

Jackie  will be missed.

Tuba Skinny Plays "Crow Jane" On the Streets of New Orleans

Paragould, Greene County,. Arkansas, Old Post Card

My great great grandfather Jason Henderson Hunter, his last wife, and his youngest children spent his last 20 years in this town.

At least he wasn't tarred and feathered and ran out on a rail.

Today is AA Founders Day and Iced Tea Day

Today  is Alcoholics Anonymous Founders Day.

Today is also Iced Tea Day.

I wonder if the two are related?  I wonder if somebody  suggested to a drunk that he drink some ice tea instead of another slug of whiskey?

It seems today should also be National Smokers' Day and National Coffee Drinking Day.  Have you noticed people that are trying to stay off the bottle drink plenty of coffee and chain smokes?

Woodstock Concert with YACHT ROCK REVUE

The Woodstock Concert - you heard of that before .  This Woodstock concert was different, there was not much of a pot smell in the air (but some); no openly drinking; no dancing in the mud; and quiet a few pairs of uniformed officers to make sure people followed the rules - This was Woodstock, Georgia.  There was a Saturday Night Fever in the air and a whole lot of shaking going on of young and old.

We enjoyed the company of Joe and Christine Jenkins.  Not only did we enjoy their company, we enjoyed their snacks!

The main band was YACHT ROCK REVUE, which they were good, they knew how to handle their instruments.  They turned the audience into dancing groupies.

But I must admit, I am a little out of touch of the feel of being part of a big crowd.  I saw a kid catch a big beachball and he tossed it to his friend close by and the kid hit it and with many feet away.  That is mean!  I thought, and I was about to run and chase down the ball, retrieve it and return it to its owner when I saw it hit again and went even further away, which about then, another big ball wihizzed by me.  Then, I saw another one high up in the air making its return back to the crowd on the ground.   Oh.

Jane Killian

Chris

Captain Joe Jenkins

Commodore Christine Jenkins