April 2007                                                The Megaphone                                                     Page 9

The Writing Place

by Cindy (Benedict) Odom    

During the early '60's, she loved to go to Aunt Lou's and visit, at times staying over night. Aunt Lou's house seemed isolated from the small town atmosphere she enjoyed. Even though it wasn't really way out in the country, it seemed as though it was. Aunt Lou's house was nestled in the country settings of west Elwood and during the day, was a place to stir a child's imagination. And at night, her imagination would completely unearth. It was a place with no indoor plumbing. There was a pump in the yard and one at the kitchen sink. The bathroom was a few feet from the house. One may possibly think this displeasing, but it just added to the imagination of a 10-year-old girl. Playing there was exciting. The out buildings would be magically turned into places of adventure, as well as the woods on the edge of the property.

She was a writer, one with character and imagination. Most of the time she would make up poems. After all, she may perhaps become a great writer someday. She always carted her paper and pencils with her for her visits to Aunt Lou's. She could go to the cellar and sit at the table and find many things to write about. She found the cellar exciting and would write stories when there. She could sit for hours and write about the adventures of her day. Sometimes making things up, putting her imagination on paper. One day while in the cellar, the door in the corner intrigued her. This door was a small passageway to a place she had never been. When she inquired as to what was behind the door, Aunt Lou told her it was just a very small room that went under the porch. It is dark and has a dirt floor, and there is nothing in there. Aunt Lou told her that she would not find it a fun place. Satisfied with that, she began her writing. Yet the door was still there, and motivating her imagination.

As she sat thinking of what she was going to write about, she kept looking at the door in the corner and knew something was behind that door. She could hear sounds coming from with in the room. She heard scratching and other sounds. She even knew she could hear whispers coming from the room. Not wanting to make her presence known, she sat quietly and listened. What could possibly be behind that door? As she sat there quietly listening, she knew there were people living in there. She could imagine an entire town filled with tiny residents. If they knew she was here, they might want her to enter the room. The thought was exciting, but she wondered if she went in would allow her to leave? After all, this was their secret neighborhood. Every part of this made for a good story. She decided that would be the topic she would write about. So her story of a town peopled with tiny individuals was created.

 
She would be leaving her Aunt's house soon, and needed to retrieve her paper and pencils from the cellar. She ran down the steps and gathered them together, then stopped and looked at the door in the corner. She thought of what she had written about and was eager to show her story to her parents. It was after all, a good story.

I often think about the times spent I with Aunt Lou. They were innocent times, times when a 10-year-old girl could use her imagination to visit places unseen. They were exciting and fun times.

Now, I too live in the country not far from town, however; it seems as though it is. Here is where I have created a place for my grandchildren to explore. A place to experience adventure and fun times. A place where they are surrounded by nature, and where their imaginations can grow. They can go exploring by the creek and into the woods. They can play hide and seek by the trees. They use their flashlights to investigate at night. We gather around a campfire and look at the dinosaur tree.

Someday I hope they will sit down and write stories of adventurous places... write about the memories of visiting Grandma's.

Cindy (Benedict) Odom, '69

Patience, Polly & Pete

by Nancy Sumner

I don't have a dog! I have another pet... it is non-dog! Oh, now don't get me wrong... I like dogs! Big dogs, little dogs, long dogs, short dogs, wrinkly-skin dogs, fire-truck dogs, life-saving dogs (those with a can of beer around their necks!), pure-bred and those of mixed heritage! I like dogs... I just don't like dog poop! 

Growing up we had dogs at home. But never in the house... we tried, but when Mom  came in the back door the dog was out the front door!  If there was an odor left behind, I'd just blame in on my brother! I mean... what could he say!! I remember a picture of my sister holding 10 little puppies and she had a name for each one. My sister is still here... the puppies aren't. Until now I've never stopped to think about where all those puppies went! Now I don't want to know! Mutts of all sizes seemed to find their way to  our house... then they would disappear. Probably wandered to a home where they could go inside.

When I moved to my little house on the corner, I thought about getting a dog... then I thought about the dog deposits! No dog. I was talked into getting a cat. My daughter had a cat in Chicago and she seemed to like it and it would give her company. So I tried it! Mistake!! Big Mistake! That cat never did like me! It didn't want to cuddle. It just wanted to hiss and shed all over the place! It was driving me crazy... it was changing my mild-mannered personality! I'd be OK at work but when I came in the back door, my teeth would grind... where's that cat?? I kept giving it chance after chance. He refused to believe that I was the master and he was the CAT! One evening I baked something where I had to spray the pan with non-stick spray. The next morning I went into the kitchen and the light came through the window just right and there were paw prints on top of my counters!! Arghhhh!!!! I wiped everything down and when I came home at noon, I made a phone call to the animal shelter! I could feel myself de-stressing! At 5:15 that evening, Mr. Animal Catcher came for a visit. He left with the cat, the cat carrier, the cat food, the kitty litter, the cat toys and the litter box with poop shovel!! Bye-bye, cat! Ahhhh!! The demon was gone! I could smile again! I regained control of my home!

As for my non-dog pet... it is a little panther! It's name is Patience. I like to consider it a sibling of WLWHS's Polly and Pete Panther. Gives me not a bit of trouble. I dust it off occasionally from its place on my computer desk. Patience is the perfect pet! No panther poop!!

Nancy Sumner

Elwood 

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