It was an ordinary day. Trying to eliminate some of my mother's collection of clothing and antiques that occupy my basement. I have had flooding in the basement twice since we have lived here and would prefer to minimize the amount of material that I have to store in the basement. When mom moved from assisted living, where she had her own room with big closet as well as a storage locker in another area of the building, to personal care, where she has 6 drawers and a closet one foot wide, I had to find space in my house to store her belongings. I have 4 suitcases as well as about a dozen and a half big boxes filled with her belongings as well as a long closet in our spare bedroom filled with clothes. In the past three years mom has lost about 40 pounds and most of the clothes I have stored as well most of the clothes in the suitcases no longer fits. We have been purchasing new clothes as 
the seasons call for them. Therefore, we find it is helpful to sort out what will not be used and donate it to Goodwill. As far as the large boxes go, I have been bringing one or two boxes a night upstairs with me and Carol and I sit and go through the boxes to see what can be salvage and what can be discarded. Have found some really neat stuff! A 1922 calendar with drawings of some of the neatest cars from that year such as the Overland, Essex, Earl and
Star. Opened it to August and there was mom's birth date circled with "Dot's birthday" next to it. Also found a box with Christmas decorations in it. A laminated wooden nativity scene with accompanied wooden camels held together with small chain were in the box as well as a few nutcrackers. A small ceramic Christmas Tree that played a "Oh, Christmas Tree" when you pushed a button on one of the stars on the tree. Ornaments, some hand-made, were in a small bag. But, the item that interested me the most was the bag of wax choirboys and candles that my dad and I received in the 1950s from Mr. McConnell, our church organist and choirmaster. I was a young boy in the boy's choir and dad was the bass soloist in the men's choir and every Christmas Mr. McConnell would give us wax choirboys filled with candy or a was choirboy candle. I knew mom and dad still had them, but could never find them ..... until now. Wow, what a treat, and it's not even Christmas. Also found the
red glass roosterthat my Nannan (my father's mother) used to have sitting on her kitchen table filled with jelly. What a treat that was to find that. More treasures will come as i continue to go through the boxes. Now, the down side of the "finds". We found a half-used Fleet enema bottle, a bag that Moravian Manor had marked as weapons that mom must have been keeping for who knows what that includeda letter opener and a scissors, and a sock filled with coins and tied which could be used to hit someone with. Found an address book listing all mom and dad's friends and relatives and changes in addresses as they occurred as well as being crossed off and marked "deceased" as they died. But the box that I opened and immediately found old towels with mice turds all over them rally drew my attention. I checked to see if there were any holes in the bottom of the box and found none. As I removed items and put them in the trash, I kept thinking about what I was going to find at the bottom
. Then came the red and green foil wrappers that were on Hershey Kisses that had been eaten. Now, I raised all sorts of animals when I was younger including mice and rats,but I always knew what I could expect. I was getting more excited as I removed a metal can filled with coughdrops, a box of lightbulbs and a few bars of soap. Then at the bottom were flattened candy wrappers. I just knew what I was going to find when I lifted them out of the box. But ..... nothing. Whatever was in the box had left! Probably one of the 4 mice I caught in the area above my ceiling tiles right after the holi
days this past December. The treasures I have found are part of my family's history, but the excitement and intrigue of finding them is priceless. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.
I braked and turned toward the fence to avoid from hitting the one nearest me. As soon as I was stopped, I put my car window down, grabbed my camera I happened to have on the front seat and tried to take a photo of them before they disappeared into the wooded area of the park. Without focusing and with the speed of the deer, my shot is rather blurry. Another second and I would have hit the last deer. They are such beautiful animals and they run like the wind. I'm sure it is the family that we had seen two years before. They seem to be surviving, even with all the housing developments bordering their home in the woods. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.
ly 
ere retiring from the Board of Trustees. I was honored that he chose my photo to be given as the gift that honored members for their service to the Fulton. Ever since that time, I annually frame copies of the photo, which I retired from sale, with a small plaque at the bottom of the print. Most years there may be two or three retiring members, but this year there are eight. And ..... I received six days notice that they were needed for the next board meeting. Cutting the mats and making the prints is an easy chore, but the plaques are a different problem. A quick call to Kurt at Brown's Graphic Solutions, with a promise to have them do
ne in time, solved my problem. I sign them as well as identify them with "Fulton Opera House" and number them (example: 13/150). I figure that with a print edition of 150 I should be save to supply them for many years to come. Picked up the plaques at noon today and rushed home to put the finishing touches on the framed photos. Now, my next big chore is to locate Aaron with the finished results before the board meeting tonight. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos frpom the top are: original site of the Fulton which was a pre-revolutionary jail built in 1763, photo of the original Fulton as it appears in 1900 (notice the horse-drawn carriage), the Fulton on North Prince Street in 1950, and the almost completed award showing the Fulton as it appeared in 2006.
w had intended to sail to the Bahamas, but weather and currents brought them to St. Martin. The raft, named "An-Tiki", was made from 
caught the eye of a Nashville talent scout. He then opened for Bill Haley & The Comets and following this performance, signed with Decca Records in 1956. He formed his own band, called "The Crickets" consisting of Holly (lead guitar and vocalist), Niki Sullivan (guitar), Joe B. Mauldin (bass), and Jerry Allison (drums). On May 27, 1957, "That'll Be The Da
y" was released as a single and by September 23 topped the Best Sellers List. On August 16, 1957, "The Crickets" played the all-black Apollo Theater in New York and won over the audience with their songs. On December 1 of that year, "The Crickets" performed "That'll Be The Day" and "Peggy Sue" on 
g Bopper" Richardson. Following a performance at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa, on February 2, 1959, he hopped on a small airplane to take him to the next stop on the tour. One of his bandmates, Waylon Jennings, gave uphis seat so Buddy could f
ly with Valens and Richardson. The plane crashed soon after taking off from nearby mason City in the early hours of February 3, killing the three artists and the pilot. He was 21 years old at the time of his death. He had been perceived as music's rising star. His untimely death and the subsequent loss on the music world has since been immortalized in Don McLean's hit, "American Pie," a tune which proclaims the day of the accident as simply, "the day the music died." What more can be said? It was another extraordinary day in the life of an
ordinary guy. PS - pixs from the top are: Poster for the Buddy Holly Story from the Dutch Apple Theater, Billy McGuigan performing during the show, early photo of the real Buddy Holly, "The Crickets" featuring Niki Sullivan, Jerry Allison, Holly, and Joe B. Maulldin, Buddy performing in concert at the Apollo Theater in New York, and his tombstone in Lubbock, Texas.