Here are some more snippets of memories which might spark a short story or two, or be placed in a longer one. See what you think.
Visiting Jackson State Park north of Kewanee and, finding an interesting picnic area, spent several visits building a sort of lean-to with tree branches scattered about. That structure became the basis of a story idea for me. I wrote a novelette that one day I might get back to, clean it up, submit it somewhere. Who knows?
While living in Kewanee, I made a date with a girl in the Quad Cities, but when I went to pick her up, she had forgotten all about making the date in the first place. (Such is my luck with women. Lol)
Signing my first autograph at a business convention while working for the Kewanee radio station.
Almost crashing the radio station car while on an icy highway heading for a basketball game.
Faking it during football games sportscasts, as if I knew anything about football.
Remembering my two faux pas during basketball games; I still have the tape of one. My color commentator fell off his chair on the second one. Ask me about them sometime.
Remembering the gorgeous office girl temporarily employed at the radio station. Used to wear mini-skirts to work.
Her replacement – a woman with no sense of humor and an unpleasant odor.
The wonderful mechanic with Parkinson's who repaired the equipment.
Throwing rocks at a rat infested wood pile in downtown Kewanee.
Being the only person in the Kewanee theater on a Thursday night. I even remember the movie – Tremors, with Kevin Bacon.
Changing the tire on my Chevette after it had gone flat. That morning the temp had dropped to -22.
Leaving a note on a pretty girl's windshield. She never responded. (Such is my luck with women. Lol)
I remember Kewanee's water was light yellow in color. Tasted awful and turned my whites grey.
Upsetting the downstairs neighbor by constantly running up and down the metal stairs to my apartment. (At least that hasn't changed; I still run up and down the stairs.)
The last day of work at the radio station, waiting for the boss to show up to give me my paycheck. She had been gone all day and didn't show up until 5:15. She took it from her middle desk drawer, held it to me and said, “I'll bet you're looking for this.” I grabbed my check, said thank you, and bolted from the building, never to return.
I don't know why this set of memories dealt with my almost two years in Kewanee, Illinois, the self purported 'Hog Capital of the World'. The first one crossed my mind and I just kept going. I remember going to concerts of a couple of country stars; loving the sportscasting; loving the job and some of the co-workers. I only left because I had my morning shift taken away from me.
However, Kewanee was the place I started seriously on my writing. Yes, I'd written stories and journals before, but when I started the one inspired by the lean-to, that was the beginning. A few years later, I started on the first draft of Alpha, the one I'm currently rewriting.
One last memory from Kewanee...During a two or three month period, I spent an agonizing time stopping by a certain person's house wanting to talk, then writing a letter to that person. It's been over twenty years and that person has never responded.
Such is my luck, no? Oh well...might make a good story some day.
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