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