An Invitation to the Mallory Family Reunion!

You Are Invited!

---------

WHO:
The Mallorys, Bacons, O’Flahertys, etc.

WHAT:
Family Reunion.

WHEN:
June 20, from 10:30 a.m. to ?????

WHERE:
The Lake.

COST:
A favorite dish, plus $25.00 per couple, $7.50 per child, to help defray the cost of renting The Northwest Quadrant of the Winnehaha Pavilion.

RSVP:
Sally Millhouse, (712) 555-1234

SPECIAL NOTE:
We’ll be sitting for family portraits!

________________________________


Follow Samantha as she prepares for the family reunion. As she hunts for artifacts for the family display, she finds this old letter:


Oct. 29, 1959 (I am sorry this is late)

Dear Auntie,

Thank you for the $10 for my birthday. I will buy a pretty red pink blue dress you will like (I hope). I am skinney now, dr. Noonan put me on a strick diet (ugh!). Lettuce, cellery and cottage cheese.

I HATE

Mrs. Niles died last month, Nana says she wieghed over 500 lbs, I would DIE if I weighed over 500 lbs. I am in the St. Bonyfi Boniface chior now, we sang at Mrs. Niles funneral.

L♥ve Sammy

PS: Nana says Mrs. Niles was buried in a piano crate!


(Samantha Anne Mallory, age 9)


C'mon in!

This is a must-attend event!

A command performance!

The family awaits you!



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Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Part I: Journeys (Chapter 11)

Journeys



Westbound on the Indiana Turnpike, Exit 49–La Porte

Remember the first time we went to Arkansas to see Ruby? Yeah, it was 1987. I was so scared. Did you know that? I was afraid she wouldn’t like me, that somehow she’d blame me for the Mallorys giving her away. Maybe she’d even blame me for how the wicked witch of the south–Daddy Platt’s sister–abused her. But mostly I was afraid because she was no longer a 22-month-old baby who looked up to me. She had her own life now, one that included me only on a peripheral level. Too many years had passed, and we would never share the banter and the memories that normal sisters take for granted. And then when we pulled up in front of her little rock house and I saw her thin silhouette framed in the doorway, I knew why I was really afraid.

I don’t want to talk about it.

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