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He said he had four and there were only him, his wife, and daughter so he had an extra one. He had this very expensive, top of the line sports car but it was a few years old. It was a dark blue, two seated convertible. I took Francine down to see it and she loved it. I bought it for her and she sold the Corvette. She also drove General Scott a few times in that car in different parades . The Mercedes was the last used car we ever bought. We owned a large conversion van that my brother John and I went cross country in. After we got into the postcard business I owned several Chevrolet pickup trucks with camper tops. During that period Francine drove Lincoln Town Cars. In 1991 we bought a Lincoln Mark something and took it on a delightful trip through the Northeast United States and Canada. Francine suffered with chronic back pain most of her life. It got so bad she couldnít get in cars very easy and found that The Town and Country Chrysler was the easiest to get in and to ride in so she bought one. Not to long after that I was going to buy a new car and went and looked at the Lincoln Town Cars, I noticed a Mercury Monterey that looked like it would be easy for Francine to get in. I took her to see it and it was even easier that the Chrysler to get in. These were the last two cars Francine and I owned before she died. After she died I decided to get a new vehicle as the warranty was out on my Mercury. I ended up buying another Monterey because it was such a great vehicle.


I have probably drank less than a pint of moonshine whiskey in my entire life. Nevertheless, moonshine has played a part in many events in my past. When I was two or three years old we were living on the farm in Crawford County. There was a man who lived in the area that sold moonshine whiskey. Daddy would go over almost every weekend and buy a pint of moonshine. You had to bring your own bottle. Mama and daddy would never say anything about where we were going or why. Mama said that one time we had started from the house and when I saw the direction we were going I ask daddy if he had brought his bottle. The manís name was Paul T. and daddy visited him up until we moved from the farm when I was 13. The routine was always the same. We would drive up to Paulís farmhouse and he would come out. He and daddy would talk for a while and then daddy would give him the bottle.



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