Whom Gods Destroy
“It was the busiest part of the lunch hour and I was slicing tomatoes to go with two orders of cutlets when the Western Union kid came back to the kitchen and said, “You Red Foley?”I said I was and he handed me the telegram and a pad to sign.Somebody was dead. I knew that much because, in my family, that's the only thing a telegram can mean. For a moment I held the envelope in my hand, looking at it, knowing what was in it, and feeling absolutely nothing. Not even curiosity. The orders were pili...ng up and it seemed more important to get those orders out than to see what was in the telegram.So I went ahead and fixed up the two orders of cutlets and dished up the vegetables and put the two platters in the service window. Then there was a little breathing spell so I took out the envelope and opened it. It said: “George passed away today. Funeral Friday.” It was signed “May Lou Smothers.”So help me, it took a full minute or more before it finally came to me that “George” was my old man.About that time Charley Burnstead, the counter man, put his head in the service window and said, “Burn two on one!”I put the two hamburgers on the grill and split the buns and put them on to toast.MoreLess
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