My wife and I spent July 4th, 1994, with our son Harold and his family in Charlotte, North Carolina.  Janes, our grandson, was seven years old.  Granddaughters Irene and Kira were five and one respectively. They were sweet children, and we enjoyed our visit with the family immensely.  During the visit I remember that little Irene dressed up like Betsy Ross and put on a patriotic performance for us.

On the evening of the 4th all of us went to a downtown park and watched the annual fireworks display – spectacular! 

A day or so later, as wife Ann and I prepared for our return home, granddaughter Irene came down with what we knew then as the 24 hour virus (known today as norovirus).  The major symptoms were severe nausea accompanied by stomach cramps and vomiting.  The next morning, just as we got into our automobile for the journey north, the ailment struck me.  By the time we reached the outskirts of Charlotte I was in very bad condition.  Immediately outside the city I turned off the main highway onto a country road.  I pulled over on the shoulder and fumbled with the door.  I did not wish to throw-up all over the front seat.  The car was brand new.  Also, I did not wish us to sit in that mess during our eight hour drive to Maryland.  Sensing my severe distress and seeing my difficulty opening the car door, Ann quickly dumped the contents of her large purse and handed it to me.  Thankfully, I upchucked into the purse.  After sitting for a while and partially recovering, I opened the car door and gingerly placed the purse on the ground.  Then we fled the scene of the crime. (The statute of limitations has expired on this offense, so now I can freely confess.)

Ann had just purchased that purse.  It was a beautiful, dress-me-up model that she really hated to abandon.  Some time after that incident I imagine that some poor, unlucky soul spotted that beautiful purse and picked it up.

What a surprise!  

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