Dear Eydth and Jack,
I have been sitting here at my computer since I put the
dogs to sleep for the night. And quickly went to my computer. It's nearly
10:00 now and I have devoured Jack's article on the rifle. I have spent most of
my time until now, trying to make a response on your blog--couldn't remember my
password for Google (probably made a long time ago by Clark)-but in the
meantime, long story-short. I said: That I was so happy that he
told me about his Bunker Hill rifle on my last visit with you both. He has so much knowledge about antiques, their history, and etc. that I would
love to see him write many articles on all of his interests. He is really
terriffic!
His article brought back so many memories for me, and I
remember getting to Brimfield very early and trying to use a flashlight. It was
so dark that I found my self going around areas twice because I actually got
lost. And could not see a thing. The funniest thing was on Clark's and my first
time there, waiting with all the dealers lined up and ready for their rush like
to free land in Okla. Clark was propted against a tree watching what happened,
and I got caught in the race to help the dealers unload their wagons. For the
first, and last, time in my life, I found myself up in an open truck with my
hand on one handle of a huge great basket, and a woman grabbing the other
handle. I won! Ha! But never tried that again. Clark said that they actually
shot a gun in the air to start the mayhem and let the dealers in---but I never
heard it from the roaring crown gone wild. I think that was the time we found
you two at the ice cream store, and I was never so glad to see anyone in my
life. ! Well, I tried to get smart with a cart and got up to the fence to go in
another area, one time when we ran in to John and Bea K, I had a perfect
position when they opened the gate--except my cart was too wide to go through
the gate--I nearly got stompted to death, until John just lifted my empty cart
over my head and over the fence to the other side. Wow, antiques are
dangerous. Well, I could go on and on, the the old clock has just struck 10:00
p.m. and I am dying for sleep.
But please tell me, Jack, that you will write for us
again--- Love, Virginia
