Spaw try not to read in any motive for this topic. I don't think it maudlin or sentimental but rather refreshing to stand in the warmth of memories and recall some of the smiles we knew that seemed to go on for miles.

I only met Bill D once but most of all I recall how his eyes got wet when he began to recount the great people he knew via mudcat who have now passed away. I have a feeling, perhaps a superstition, that remembering these friends empowers us, the living.

So comon get happy, get happy for the... no I'm going there. I'm jus goin down memory lane.


PS I did not mean to imply that Bill D is driving the wooden Buick. He's fine.   I think.