I just found out from one of the older residents that the limestone that the old Montgomery County court house, downtown, is built of came from the quarry under ‘my’ lake back in the 1800’s.
Rose is in the hospital and everybody has a story. I’m confining my information to what I know is true. She lives around the corner from me in 206 and borrowed a postage stamp from me a couple weeks ago.
She has been depressed since her sister died in the spring. She recently was diagnosed with some kind of cancer and won’t take her medicine because it makes her sick. She wants to die. She has had some less lucid moments in the past week where she believes that she and her family were going to be burned at the stake on December 30th. She has also taken to strolling behind her walker in the snow, in the median of Wilmington Avenue which is a large arterial thoroughfare.
Yesterday at 5.30 pm Rose jumped into the path of a moving car around the corner on Patterson Road and was killed. She was clinically dead when the medics arrived. They brought her back in some fashion after she was loaded and she’s now in Miami Valley Hospital with three serious fractures of something or other, head trauma, two severe concussions and extensive everything else.. When she is conscious she vows that she will do it right the next time. She likely will.
The woman driving the car, who was not cited, has been left with nights of terrifying dreams and some kind of early meltdown from all this. So would I. Rose can have visitors if we lie about being family and then only for 5 minutes at a time. She is 72 years old and a tall girl.
Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and I am going to try to pry a trashy 20-year-old free for an evening of fudge and hors d’ oeuvres with the old ladies and gentlemen here. Maybe the music will drown out the shriek of brakes. Ta!
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