The Stories I Hear

One of the privileges of writing a book like Visiting Tom is I get to hear about other “Toms”. While the details of the book are specific to my neighbors Tom and Arlene, it was my hope that it would also stand testament to the folks just like them who are scattered all around this country. So correspondence like this warms my heart (some identifying details changed for anonymity):

thanks for visiting tom
i lived on the north shore of xxx lake, xxx, wisconsin, for many years and had a friend named Bob who was very similiar to Tom
I learned a lot from him.  he taught me how to weld, use a cutting torch, and think thru problems.
he was a marine.  he was wounded on Iwo Jima.  when they found him, there were 6 dead enemy around his body. one of the enemy was laying on his back with Bob’s M1 and bayonet sticking upright in his chest.

Bob was the toughest guy i ever met.  he always called me, “college boy”. college boys didnt know anything.
he had a german shepard named Rex.  Rex guarded the property. the price of admission to visit with Bob was a giant milkbone.  without that, rex would not let you out of the car.
that deer skinning tool brought back memories.  i made one very similar. but, i used the truck to pull off the skin.
much faster.  local indians would bring me their deer for processing.  i had a big meat grinder.  we ground everything up into deer burger.   for payment, they would give me meal gift cards to the local casino.  it worked out very well

Thank you to all of you who send me notes like these. I can’t always respond, but I read’em all.

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