Salomi
Some clothing. And mom drove us all to Allentown, Pennsylvania.The summer of 1969.My Uncle and Aunt ran a cemetary. They, and their 4 kids, lived on a house right off the main entrance into the enclave.I can picture eating meals at their large kitchen table. Sleeping in an upstairs bedroom in that lovely house. Playing outside from morning to night. Sometimes following the workers as they prepared a grave site or cleaned up after a recent burial.I know we were warned to stay away from the mining holes (there were 3 of them) as they were filled with water. Beneath them was a dangerous mix of old equipment and loose boulders.I know they purchased a swimming pool not long after our arrival. I think my brother had shown great interest in those water filled pits.Years later my brother would nearly drown in a similar, larger, quarry hole. We learned about his many close calls during his funeral. He really did have 9 lives. I just wish he had found a way to have 10.Fire-flies (lightning. However, considering the circumstances that led to yourapology, I think it would be unwise for us to meet.Yours truly,Mark WilsonI then put Sarah Nesbitt as much out of mind as I could. I was really getting into my new job. I'd found that DigiHertz had a way of looking at all its products and projects with a strange kind of single-mindedness, that they seemed to consider each product line in complete isolation from any other, and that there were huge areas of confusion and overlap. I'd put together a package describing how they could eliminate two major areas of redundancy, speed up their time to market, and save a good deal of money in the process, and I needed to start the politicking I'd have to do to make my point. I was working hard, and I was, in my own slightly less than humble opinion, earning my keep.Three days later, I got a second email letter from Sarah Nesbitt.Dear Mr. Wilson,I can appreciate your reluctance to meet with me, but Ifeel like I *have* to talk to you.This is.
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