After dating my husband for a several months, he took me home to meet his family in Westville, OK. It was in these first trips out to see them that I discovered the Westville Reporter, and soon after I discovered my muse, Myrtle Kindle. She wrote a small column for an even smaller nearby community called Proctor, OK. The column was called "Proctor News".
Saw Jack and Louse and talked with them for a while.
You know, her sister had lost a son.
One thing nice, it wasn’t very hot.
Last week there was plenty.
Everything comes in gushes.
It is raining at my house, but not much.
She reports on who she ran into at Walmart, who wasn't at church; whose grandson was home from college, and who is going back to the hospital. She dwells on sickness so much until she gets sick herself, but resolves to pray about it. All this she writes in her column with staunch and cracking duty. She does this weekly from 1987-2005. She keeps the list going. She is keeping track of her people. You can feel her sense of obligation and to her community. You can feel her love.