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Gravestones and obituaries often leave me curious, wishing I might hear more of the story. A couple of nights ago, though, I read a just-published obit for an eighty-three-year-old man who lived not far from here, evidently a prince of a fellow, though surely not a public figure. But even though he wasn’t famous, the man’s obituary ran 2,279 words (indeed, I had my computer count them), which is substantially longer than customary in this community. I had never heard of the man, but I read the entire obit. I thought it seemed mighty thorough, but I did still have a few questions, none of which are likely to keep me awake at night.
Coincidentally, I encountered another recent obituary, for a ninety-two-year-old person with whom I was somewhat acquainted, and who happened to die on the same day as the eighty-three-year-old. Let me check, I’ll see how many words were in this one. Hmm. 348 words. This obit actually answered a couple of questions I had wondered about, and it inspired me to look up a photograph I made twelve years ago and hadn’t looked at in a while. For me, the photo raises some questions, the answers to which I might have known at the time I took it, but which seem to have evaporated over the years.
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Let me know, won’t you, please, if you, reading this WoW or examining this photograph, have questions or bits of history you care to share.
♦
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