Standing in the Rainbow

THE SEVENTIES

A New Decade

IN 1970, after a long illness, the Smith family lost Mother Smith. That same year, Bobby and Lois had another boy. The world in general had changed very little except that a man had walked on the moon and everyone in Elmwood Springs was elated that America had done it first. Aunt Elner had been the only one over at Macky and Norma’s house that night at the moonwalk party who felt sad about it. When Linda asked her why she was not as excited as everybody else she said, “Oh, but I am. It’s just that I can’t help but feel sorry for that poor Neil Armstrong.”

“Why would you feel sorry for him, Aunt Elner?”

“Because, honey,” she said, “after you’ve been to the moon, where else is there to go?”

She had a point.

Linda Warren, Macky and Norma’s daughter, was a pretty girl with reddish-blond hair and although Norma had tried to be different, she wound up saying and doing all the annoying things to Linda that her mother had when she had been a teenager. Her favorite complaint, when Linda did not do what she wanted, was “You’re just like your daddy.” However, there was some truth to the statement. Linda, a real daddy’s girl, was much more like her father in likes and temperament. She loved baseball and fishing and was great at sports.

And despite all the nagging and pleading by Norma, she had refused to take the course in domestic science in school and much to her mother’s horror, had taken shop instead. Linda told her mother that she would much rather learn how to make a birdhouse than bake a cake and, as usual, Macky agreed with her. “I don’t know how you expect to raise a child and take care of a husband if you can’t even boil an egg or make a bed!” said Norma.

When Betty Raye had been elected for her second term as governor, the first thing she had done was to appoint Vita Green as the state’s first female lieutenant governor. So, unbeknownst to most people, Hamm’s wife and mistress wound up pretty much running the state. They had the help of Peter Wheeler and other smart people who were brought into the administration. Betty Raye also named her old friend the former short-order cook to an office she had created, as adviser to the governor on disabled veterans’ affairs. After the Trolley Car Diner closed, Jimmy moved to Jefferson City and did a good job helping her out with many things. Alberta Peets, what with the murder and all, could not serve officially but she did get an early pardon and stayed on as Betty Raye’s private secretary. Earl Finley said he would not live to see the end of the Hamm Sparks era and he was right. He had a stroke in 1969.

But Betty Raye was not the only Oatman doing well. In 1970, the State Department put together a goodwill tour featuring a tribute to American music and the Oatman Family Gospel Singers were chosen to represent southern gospel. They traveled to sixteen countries and had a wonderful time, especially the night of the performance in London at the Royal Albert Hall.

Minnie was so excited to meet the Queen Mother that after she did the curtsy they had taught her, which on a three-hundred-pound woman was more of a dip, she clapped her hands in delight at the very sight of her. “Well, if you are not just the cutest thing in your little crown. I know we are not supposed to touch you but I could just hug your neck.” The Queen Mother, fascinated with the large American woman in the red dress and rhinestone glasses with her hair piled up almost a foot high on her head, listened to her prattling on. “You know, you may not know it, but you and me has a lot in common. Your girl turned out to be a queen and mine is the governor of the state of Missouri. So we must have did something right, didn’t we, honey?”

“Indeed we did, Mrs. Oatman,” said the Queen Mother, smiling as she moved on to greet Rosemary Clooney.

As to the ongoing mystery of what had happened to Hamm Sparks, Jake Spurling had far from given up. He had worked long and hard for the past three years and in January 1970 there was finally a break in the case.

When Jake received the call about the abandoned hearse down in Louisiana he ordered it and the entire area cordoned off. Some kids who had been down at the river playing found it in the woods. It was rusty and the upholstery was ripped with age. He had his men go over it from top to bottom. The hearse, an older model, was traced back to the Cecil Figgs Mortuaries car lot in Kansas City, where all the older models were kept. A check on it revealed that a hearse had gone missing sometime after Hamm and the men had disappeared. The man in charge of the lot at the time was located and questioned about why he had not reported it. He said those old hearses were stolen all the time by kids wanting to joy-ride, so he’d figured that was what had happened. Jake flew in to Louisiana and walked around the area but there was nothing there except an old falling-down boat dock.

Jake was curious about who it belonged to and had it traced. His ears pricked up when the name was found. The registered owner of the land and the boat dock in 1967 was Mr. Buddy Leo, uncle of Mr. Anthony Leo of Kansas City, Missouri. A man with definite ties to organized crime. It might turn out to be nothing at all but it was too much of a coincidence, as far as Jake was concerned. The boat dock had not been too far from Hamm’s last known location in Jackson. Maybe he had come by boat. After a long search it was discovered that in May 1959, a brand-new thirty-five-foot Chris-Craft cabin cruiser had been purchased in Kansas City in the name of Mrs. Jeannie Micelli, sister of Mr. Anthony Leo. This might be the connection Jake was looking for. The abandoned hearse, the boat dock, and the missing men were all connected back to Kansas City.

Unfortunately, neither Mr. Leo was available for questioning. The uncle had died of old age and, as was often the case, Mr. Anthony Leo, although younger, was no longer alive and well. In 1968 he had accidentally stepped in front of five rapidly speeding bullets, which had proved to be fatal. When questioned, his sister, Mrs. Micelli, said she had never owned a boat. Which was probably true. These men were known to buy things they did not want traced by using other people’s names.

When Jake questioned Betty Raye, she told him she remembered that Hamm had mentioned a few times that Rodney had a friend with a boat that they sometimes borrowed.

“Is that so?” said Jake.

“Yes. I think he took the boys with him a few times.”

Hamm Jr. remembered it quite well.

Jake was pleased. Now we’re getting somewhere, he thought.

The next thing was to find out what had happened to the boat.

Tot’s Vacation

ON APRIL 21 Aunt Elner started the phone conversation, as she often did, without even saying hello first.

“Did you hear what happened to Poor Tot?”

Norma knew that whatever it was, it was not going to be good. “Don’t even tell me.”

Aunt Elner ignored her.

“You know, she’s been miserable with that broken finger and so as long as she couldn’t fix hair she let Dwayne Junior talk her into going to Florida with him and then that fish almost bit her right leg off—she’s in the hospital right now, poor thing, and she was not even fishing at the time. Said she was downstairs in the galley of the boat minding her own business, not bothering a soul, just trying to fix herself a grilled-cheese sandwich, when the fish got her.”

Norma sat down. “What fish?”

“I don’t know but it was mad at having been jerked out of the water, I can tell you that.”

“Who told you this?”

“Verbena, she just got off the phone with Tot this very second.”

Norma said, “Aunt Elner, I’ll call you right back,” and dialed Verbena’s number down at the cleaners to get the story firsthand. Verbena picked up: “Blue Ribbon.”

“It’s Norma.”

“I was just calling you but your line was busy.”

“Did you tell Aunt Elner that Tot was bitten by a fish?”

“No, I said she was stuck by a fish while making a grilled-cheese sandwich. I never said she was bitten.”

“Why would she get stuck by a fish if she was downstairs cooking?”

“Because the fish just came down the stairs looking for her, I guess.”

“But why?”

“Because she has the worst luck of anybody I know, that’s why.”

“How did it happen?”

“She was down in Florida on this fishing boat that Dwayne Junior and a friend of his had rented to try and cheer her up. That’s what he said but he just wanted to go himself, if you ask me. Anyhow, after three hours of sitting upstairs in the hot sun, not catching a thing, she said, ‘I’m hungry, I’m going down and fix myself a grilled-cheese sandwich. Does anybody else want one?’ They said no and the next thing she knew, just as she was getting ready to flip her sandwich, this big fish came flying down the stairs. Dwayne had jerked it out of the water too hard and it flew right over his head and when it hit the deck it took a flying leap and came sailing down the stairs and stabbed Poor Tot in the thigh with its nose.”

“Oh my God, it must have scared her to death.”

“She said it was certainly a surprise to look down and see a strange fish sticking out of her leg. The captain packed her leg in ice and took her all the way to Pensacola to get the thing removed. She said she felt like a fool checking in with a fish sticking out of her leg but the captain said that they didn’t dare pull it out on their own. It could cause too much damage.”

“Damage to who?”

“The fish, I guess—Dwayne Junior is having it mounted as a souvenir of their trip.”

“What kind of fish was it?”

Norma could hear Verbena shuffling papers. “I wrote it down. Here it is. It was identified as a needle-nosed houndfish. They took her picture for the paper.”

“Is she all right?”

“Oh yes. Besides having six stitches and having to get shots.”

“Can’t she sue somebody?”

“Norma, who’s she going to sue? She said the fishing-boat people won’t cover it. They said it was an act of God. . . . So who can she sue, the Gulf of Mexico? Or the fish? No, she just got stuck in more ways than one, so she’s coming home tomorrow. She didn’t have but one day of vacation. If she was miserable when she left, you can imagine how she must feel now.”

“Poor Tot.”

The next day the citizens of Pensacola saw a picture of a Mrs. Whooten being wheeled into the emergency room under a caption that read WOMAN SPEARED BY FLYING FISH. People in Elmwood Springs tried not to bring it up but when they did, all Tot would say was “It’s put me off tuna fish, I can tell you that.”

To the Public at Large:

My recent experience has taught me an expensive lesson and I am passing it on as a warning. Do not ever call an ambulance if you can help it. Believe me, I could have gone to Europe twice for the money it cost me to ride no more than six blocks in one (it would have to be rush hour) but they did not take that fact into account. They were as nice as they could be and I was nice back, but at the time I didn’t know I was being charged a small fortune, which I am still paying on, and now my insurance has gone sky-high as well. I only had a leg injury but they made me wear a collar on my neck and on the way to the hospital they gave me oxygen in my nose (that I did not need) and kept taking my blood pressure and temperature every two minutes. Not only that, they were training the boy that was taking it how to do it and I did not even get a discount. But that was not the worst of it. Once they get you to the emergency room, look out. Those emergency room doctors are expensive and they charge you by the second. I was X-rayed and CAT-scanned from stem to stern, pulled from one place to another the whole time almost freezing to death. They keep it as cold as ice in there. In my case I was sent to surgery to have the fish removed (you don’t want to know what that set me back) and I was given a local anesthetic, so I was not able to walk out and they got to keep me overnight. If I were to tell you what they charged me for just the use of the bed, a couple of aspirins, and a tranquilizer, it would scare you to death. Don’t be lulled into thinking that your insurance covers everything. It doesn’t. My advice is this: if you can possibly walk, drive, call a cab, or take a bus to the emergency room, do it. Do not call 911 unless you are out cold.

A concerned citizen

Mrs. Tot Whooten

P.S. Watch out for flying fish.

Mother’s Day

In the spring of 1970, among the radio shows that featured mostly teenage music, right after Tops in Pops, The Neighbor Dorothy Show could still be heard over station WDOT.

Except for the fact that Mother Smith was gone and Dorothy was almost all gray now, the show remained the same. Her voice was still as warm and friendly, a welcome relief from the blaring rock and roll that played the rest of the day and night.

“Good morning, everybody,” said Neighbor Dorothy. “I don’t know what’s happening where you are but it seems everybody here has come down with a full-blown case of old-fashioned spring fever. And I can’t blame them—this is such a pretty, warm April and I hope it is the same where you are. I’ve never seen so many jonquils popping up everywhere. And pretty soon Mother’s Day will be upon us and if you’re wondering what to get Mother this year, think about giving her a gift that sings. A canary of her very own for the parlor or kitchen, to start her day on a cheery note. I can recommend that from experience. I can’t tell you how much joy my two precious birds, Dumpling and Moe, gave me over the years. Or if she already has a canary, you might think about getting her Rittenhouse door chimes and remember, Rittenhouse door chimes are always pleasant to the ear and a lovely way to say that company is at your door. And let’s see what else . . . we received another postcard from our tin-can tourists . . . the Goodnight sisters . . . and I wish you could see this one. They are both sitting on ostriches. It comes from the Corn Blough Ostrich farm in Kalamazoo—I tell you, those girls have no fear.

“. . . If any of you folks are traveling in or around Lebanon, Missouri, and need a place to stay, don’t forget Nelson’s Dream Village Motor Court. . . . Stop in and see and hear the electrical and musical fountain. Spend a cool night in the Ozark Mountains on U.S. Highway Number 66 . . . the gateway to the South and the West. . . . Nelson’s Dream Village—strictly modern, fireproof, individual bungalows where children stay free.

“And speaking of children. I got the sweetest letter from Bobby and Lois and I am happy to report that grandson Michael is now an Eagle Scout. I would have given anything to be there to see it. It’s so hard to realize that both my children live so far away and no matter how old they get they are still our babies, aren’t they? When I see Bobby now I can hardly believe that he runs such a big company. I know he is a grown man with children of his own but to me he’s still my little Bobby and she is still my little girl Anna Lee, who, hold on to your hat, called me last night and reported that she might be getting ready to be a grandmother herself and make Doc and I great-grandparents.” Dorothy laughed. “I told Doc I hope it happens because it will be the first time I’ve ever been great at anything.

“Later on in the program we will be having a talk from Gertrude Hazelette entitled ‘The Superior Way to Crack Hickory Nuts’ . . . but first let me ask you this: Are there any more pack rats out there besides me? Every year when I do my spring cleaning I go up in the attic, determined to clean it out and throw out all that old stuff that does nothing but sit up there and collect dust and every time . . . I always wind up not throwing a thing away. . . . I sit there and so many pleasant memories come back with each and every thing I pick up. I know I should give all of it away, but I just don’t have the heart. . . . Oh well . . . maybe next year . . .”

Empty Nest

NORMA WARREN was getting ready to have her daughter leave home for the first time and she was not at all happy about it. When their daughter, Linda, graduated from high school, she immediately went to work for AT&T. On career day the representatives had come to school trying to recruit women, in particular, for management training. They needed a quota of women now that the federal and the state governments were paying attention. Aunt Elner’s niece by marriage, Mary Grace, had a good job at the telephone company in St. Louis and put in a good word for her. When Linda was chosen, Norma was disappointed. “I wish you’d think about going to college for at least two years, if nothing else. I wish I hadn’t gotten married so young. I wish I had gone to college.”

“I know, Mother, but think about the great opportunity this is. I’m going to be trained for a top job. Why waste four years in college when I can already be working and making good money?”

“But, honey, think of the fun you’ll miss—the sororities, the dating, living in the dorm with all the other girls.”

“People don’t do all that anymore and I can have just as much fun making money. If you weigh all the options, Mother, it’s really the most logical and practical thing to do.”

“You’re too young to be logical and practical. You must get that from your daddy. I was never practical or logical. Maybe I should have been more like you. I just got married and didn’t learn a thing. If something happens to your daddy, I’ll probably wind up as someone’s maid or cook—that’s all I know how to do. I don’t have any skills but cooking and cleaning.”

“Oh, Mother, you do too. Real cooking is a skill.”

“No, it’s not,” Norma said. “Any old person can cook.”

“I can’t,” said Linda.

“You never really tried. You know your daddy is going to be very upset that you’re not going to college.”

“No, he’s not. He thinks it’s a great idea.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went down to the store and showed him the letter.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“Before you showed me?”

“Well, I wanted to see what he thought. And he said I should do it.”

“Oh, I see, so as usual you and he have decided—I’m just out of the loop, I don’t count.”

“Oh, Mother . . .”

“Well, it’s true. I don’t know why you bother to tell me anything. I might as well be a knob on the door for all you two care. Why did you bother to ask me? You’re going to do what your daddy says, you always do.”

“Mother, you know that’s not true. And if you’re so dead set against it, I won’t go.”

“Sure, and if you don’t go you’ll never let me live it down. I was just hoping you would be a little closer to home, that’s all, not too far away.”

Linda said, “So that’s what is really worrying you.”

“Why shouldn’t it? I’m a normal mother.”

“But you don’t have to worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you think I am going to let you go up to some big city full of gangs and white slavers and not worry?”

“Oh, Mother, there aren’t any white slavers in San Francisco.”

“You don’t know. I look at television and I see things. Barbara Walters just had a piece about some Russian girls that got mixed up with white slavers. It still goes on, don’t kid yourself.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “And here I thought you would be on some safe college campus for four years.”

“Mother.”

“I hope you carry a gun in your purse, that’s all I can say. People are getting knocked in the head right and left. I hope you know I won’t sleep for the next four years!”

An hour later Linda called Macky.

“Daddy, you’re going to have to talk to Mother—she’s having a fit about me getting knocked in the head or getting kidnapped by white slavers.”

Macky said, “I figured as much. Has she said anything about earthquakes yet?”

“No, not yet, but I’m sure as soon as she has time to think, it will be next.”

As expected, later that night Norma sat in the kitchen with Macky. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with those people at the telephone company. Expecting a young girl to go all the way to San Francisco all by herself.”

“She’s going to be with a whole bunch of people her age that will be in training with her.”

Norma’s eyes blinked wide open. “San Francisco! Oh my God, what about earthquakes!”

Macky got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. It was going to be a long night.

“I’m going to have a series of small strokes over this, I just know it.”

“Norma, I wish you would just stop worrying over every damn thing. You are going to drive yourself crazy.”

“I can’t help it, I’m a worrier. My mother was a worrier and so am I. I was nervous as a child. I was nervous as a teenager. I’ve always been nervous. You knew I was nervous when you married me. I told you I was nervous.”

“Yes, but I thought you would get over it after the first twenty years.”

“You have never been nervous a minute in your life, so you don’t know what it’s like, so don’t sit there and tell me to just get over it. You act as if it’s something I want to do. I guess you think I wake up every morning and say, Oh boy, I just can’t wait to be a nervous wreck all day and worry myself to death about everybody and just about jump out of my skin every time the phone rings, it’s such fun. Honestly, Macky, I wish you would try and understand. You and Aunt Elner are just alike; neither one of you has a nerve in your body. I wish I could be like that but I can’t. I guess it’s just part of nature. Some animals are nervous and some aren’t. I don’t know why, but I am sure the Good Lord had his reasons. You can’t change people’s nature. You can’t say to a bird, Be more like a cow.”

“All right, Norma, you’ve made your point.”

“Or a lion to be like a monkey.”

“O.K., Norma, all I was suggesting is that you might have more fun if you could relax more.”

“Don’t you think I know that? You think you’re telling me something I don’t know? I wish I could just let the house go to pot, let you and Aunt Elner and Linda do what you want. What if Linda wants to go off to a big city and live around killers and rapists, so what? You want to jump on and off roller coasters at your age, so what? Aunt Elner wants to leave her house wide open all night so anybody can come traipsing in and out and murder her in her bed, so what?”

“I know, but, Norma, you’re like Chicken Little, running around always thinking the sky’s falling. Do you think that your worrying can prevent anything from happening? Whatever happens is supposed to happen and whatever doesn’t, isn’t.”

Norma looked at him like she could kill him. “Well, thank you, Macky, that’s a big help. I’ll remember to tell you that the next time you are worried about something.”

After Linda had left for San Francisco, Aunt Elner called Norma and said, “Norma, do you know what’s the matter with you? You’re an empty nester.”

“What?”

“I read it in the Reader’s Digest and I think you’ve got empty-nest syndrome. I think that’s why you are so depressed and moping around. It says the symptoms are a feeling that your life is over, a feeling of uselessness. I see the signs as clear as day.”

“What signs?”

“You can’t fool me. Every time you come over here I know you’re just itching to clean my house. What you need is a hobby. Listen, the Reader’s Digest says, and I quote, are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“ ‘The antidote to empty-nest syndrome is the following or a combination thereof. . . . Get up out of the house and make new friends, get new hobbies, donate your time to some civic cause, go on a second honeymoon with your husband.’ ”

“A second honeymoon? We never had the first one. Now I’m due two. Go on, what else?”

“Go out to eat at least once a week or take a dance class.”

Norma had to admit that what Aunt Elner said was true. She had been feeling useless and she had been itching to clean Aunt Elner’s house from top to bottom. But she did not want to take a dance class, or eat out once a week. There was no place to go now that the cafeteria had closed except Howard Johnson, and just how many fried clams can one eat? And she knew Macky would never shut down the hardware store to go on a second honeymoon. She supposed her only recourse was to search for a cause, but finding a cause in Elmwood Springs would not be easy. Everybody seemed to have what they wanted.

Tin-Can Tourists, 1974

Aunt Elner had been out in the yard dealing with a dog that was chasing her cat and had missed most of Neighbor Dorothy’s show but she ran in and turned it on to try to catch the tail end of it anyway. This was Neighbor Dorothy’s last week on the air and she did not want to miss one second of it.

“We received another postcard from our tin-can tourists, Ada and Bess Goodnight. Bess says their travels are over; they have settled down and plan to stay there forever. Their new home is the Ollie Trout Trailer Camp, located on Biscayne Boulevard at 107th Street, one and a half miles north of the Miami city limits. The postcard has a lovely picture and describes Ollie’s as one of the finest automobile trailer tourist parks in the country, offering three hundred and fifty individual lots with a coconut palm on each corner. It sounds like heaven to me. The card is signed, ‘Whoopee, come and see us. Ada and Bess Goodnight.’

“It seems like they just left yesterday and they have been gone for over nine years now. Well, I’ve caught you up on all the news, so I thought I’d take this time to talk about something that’s been on my mind for a while. Last night Doc and I were sitting in the backyard watching the sun go down and the stars come out . . . and what a pretty sight . . . to see the first little star come twinkling on . . . the night was so warm and lovely and we sat there until they had all come out and I had a thought. I wondered how we would feel if we never had stars or the moon, just a dark sky and then, one night, they suddenly all appeared in the sky. We would all be in awe, I’m sure, and say, What a wondrous sight, but sometimes I get so busy I forget to look at the moon and the stars and appreciate how lucky we are to have them. We never appreciate the moon until he goes behind a dark cloud, do we? God gave us so many beautiful things to look at, and now that both my children are grown and gone, Doc and I spend a lot more time counting our blessings and we have had more than our share. I know that we were so lucky to have had Mother Smith with us for so many years. Both our children are happy and healthy and I have been blessed, too, with so many wonderful neighbors, my real neighbors and all my radio neighbors, who have been with me throughout the years. I often wonder what I did to deserve such a wonderful life. It’s going to be hard not to come to the microphone every morning for our visit but you and I know that, unfortunately, time marches on and waits for no man, as they say, or even woman. I am sure that the new folks coming along will have a lot of exciting things to offer. It’s been a long run . . . thirty-eight years of broadcasting is more than I could have ever hoped for.

“As most of you know, Doc is retiring this month and we are looking forward to doing some traveling and a lot of visiting. At the end of our lives we don’t have much money and are not rich in material things, but as I sit and reread the letters you have sent me throughout the years I am wealthy as a millionaire and I hope you will still write to me every once in a while. I have been asked to stop by the studio in Poplar Bluff and chat with you from time to time, so you won’t be rid of me altogether, but we still have a week to go, so I won’t say good-bye. I’ll just say until tomorrow, this is Neighbor Dorothy coming to you from 5348 First Avenue North in Elmwood Springs, Missouri. Where you are always welcome and have a nice day.”

Elner got up from the table, sighing and wondering what in the world life would be like without The Neighbor Dorothy Show. She was not the only one. In a kitchen twenty miles outside of town, a farm woman went into the left drawer by the sink and pulled out a writing tablet and, after testing about six, finally found a ballpoint pen that still had ink in it. She sat down and started a letter.

Dear Neighbor Dorothy,

Just thought I’d drop you a line and tell you how much I’ll miss hearing you on the radio every day. Listening to you was always such a comfort to me and I did not feel so alone way out here, so far from town. It would have been a lonely old life if it had not been for you and your family. At times I almost felt like Bobby and Anna Lee were mine as well. Lord, we have been through it all, haven’t we? You have truly been a good neighbor.

Your friend,

Mrs. Vernon Boshell

Route 3

The End of an Era

DOC HAD BEEN at the drugstore, training the young pharmacist who was taking his place, when the prescription was called in. The minute he saw who the heart medicine was for he went home. They never did travel. It was a warm autumn that year, so they spent some of the days sitting in the Sweetheart Swing out back and watching the sun go down.

On October 22, a tall, thin radio announcer walked into the booth, looked up at the clock, and waited. At exactly 9:30, instead of the Tops in Pops show, which usually aired after the news, a surprised listening audience heard: “Ladies and gentlemen, station WDOT is sad to report that a friend is dead. Last evening, Neighbor Dorothy passed away quietly in her home in Elmwood Springs. She is survived by her daughter, Anna Lee, and a son, Robert. We wish to extend our deepest sympathies to them and to the hundreds of radio listeners who came to know and love her over the years.

“The family requests that if you wish to remember her, in lieu of flowers, please send a donation to the Princess Mary Margaret Fund, in care of the Elmwood Springs Humane Society. In remembrance, we here at station WDOT will be off the air for one hour in silent tribute to a woman who will be missed by all.

“We would like to close with this thought. What is a life? The best and most noble life is one lived in such a way that it can be said of a person, as they pass on to the next life, that while she was here she brought love and joy and comfort to all she touched. Such was the life lived by the woman known to all simply as Neighbor Dorothy. Although her voice here on earth has been silenced, we would like to think that somewhere, in another place, people are just now turning on their radios and hearing her for the very first time. Good-bye, dear friend.”