Dick, We Want You Well!

Whoops ... better be on my best behaviour.

Me too.

I have this helpless feeling. Dick, know that you are one really nice, nice man. If I could go to Ohio and stand by your bed and nag you well, I would do it. If I were God, I would zap you.

I am a fairly good nag.

I hope you know how loved you are.

Love,
Betty

If Dick doesn't apprehend that he is revered, worshipped and idolized by now--I don't know how to make it any plainer.

Don't keep us waiting, Dick, we want you better--NOW!

I will never speak of a cat, brocolli or Kinkade if you will get well and be back here.

Alice, you said:
"I will never speak of a cat, brocolli or Kinkade if you will get well and be back here."

With that statement, I'm sure he will be back soon.

If he doesn't hurry up, it is all I will speak of.

Thanks for all the kind comments. They are appreciated.

You are appreciated.

Nice-looking dude, he was. (But I get the feeling he didn't like cats. Uh-oh.) Was he the type to wear leather elbow patches? I see he sported a pipe.

How did you loving folks learn about his death? Curious minds want to know. Is there a thread I can read? Even when we're prepared to hear bad news, it's always a shock when it really happens.

And very sad.

Kitty, the thread is here:

http://www.publishedauthors.org/information-f21/dick-stodghill-has-passed-away-t3556.htm

Awww....very, very nice. Thanks, LC.

His wife Jackie was a lucky lady to have him in her life, sounds like. Abe seems to have known him very well too.

I could sense Dick reading the comments right along with me. Heard him chuckle a couple of times, I did.

I'll bet he's having a great ol' time Over There now.

P.S. I sorta dig your latest Avatar, LC.

Kitty,

You can read the "Stodghill Says So Blog" here on the messageboard. Shelagh put all his blog posts in one thread.

And "Normandy" is the best book I have ever read on World War II, written by a man who was there, not someone directing troops but someone fighting in the trenches.

Thank you for your interest. It has reminded me of a wonderful man none of us should forget.

Carol

Thanks for that info about "Normandy," Alice and Carol. Sounds like a book I should read someday.

My husband was my senior by quite a few years. He was a tail gunner in WW II (he didn't pass the pilot test, came close though). Anyway, according to who told the story, his plane was either shot down or it ran out of fuel over "Dutch Amsterdam," as he called it. The guys were told to bail out. (Not everybody did, and later became POW.) Hubby-to-be (years later) was pushed out. He said his parachute didn't open until just moments before he hit the ground. Claims he used the S word all the way down...what, no prayers? I guess this proves the S word works just as well, haha.

He and another guy were harbored (is that the right term?) by a Dutch family for the year before the war ended. They lived in their chicken coop for the first six months, and then in with the family. Whenever they heard heavy footsteps on the porch, they'd run to the basement.

Tom told a really funny story about the time a Nazi honcho stomped into the house before they could escape to the basement. Each guy quickly hid behind a drape in the living room. The Big Guy (yes, he was huge, supposedly) plopped himself down in a chair and asked the woman of the house to get him something to eat. So she bustled off to the kitchen. BG, thinking he was alone in the room, then let out a really loud one.

If Tom and the other guy hadn't stifled their laughter, they'd have gotten themselves and the family shot to death. Imagine that a hearty laugh (over a hearty, um, FART) could cause the death of many! Whew, huh?

(I touch on that bit a little more in my forever ongoing and often neglected WIP. Am waiting for something else to develop before I add more to it.)