Happy birthday to my Aunt Addie, whose cake would be a fire hazard with its 127 candles. She was born Addie Olmstead in 1888, married Archie Vaughn and loved him intensely. She wanted children, but had none. The last time I talked with her she was about the age I am now, and she said she hoped my children would remember her. After her retirement she became a full time volunteer at her church. A neighbor warned her that she worked too hard in her garden and risked collapsing there, and she replied that she couldn’t think of a better place to collapse than among her flowers. I hope she knows she is remembered.
Another birthday is at hand, and this man will be remembered by a few thousand of his best friends and admirers. The Rt. Rev. John W. Howe, retired Episcopal Bishop of Central Florida, has shown many how to pray. He still does. There will be Happy Birthday prayers for him on November 4.
Sally, my amazing wife, loved her family and was a compulsive do-gooder. She fought back against polio and massive surgery. I used to tease her that it was easy to remember our wedding anniversary because it was five days ahead of the Marine Corps birthday. One of them is 61 years, or maybe 62, and the other is 240 years, both early in November.
Remember the Alamo, Remember the Maine, Remember Mama—and don’t forget to remember Aunt Addie.