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in his 91st year, Basil Moss continues to write stories. We will provide the unpublished stories here as ebooks.
An Explanatory Note: While the stories I tell in this section are quite varied and cover many subjects, I have chosen to entitle it CARILLON OUR HOME. The reason for that choice lies in the fact that all of these stories were written in the Carillon Creative Writing Class. The poem that follows sets the tone for my feelings about Carillon Assisted Living Facility.
The attendants at Belle Court South are surprised the first time they see me each morning. They are a bit startled to see that I have dressed myself. What they see is the result of a planned routine that started the night before. I spend some time selecting the clothes I will wear the next day.
One day, the mighty Michelangelo was asked how in the world he had produced his beautiful carving of David. Michelangelo is quoted as saying, “On the day I decided to do David, I went to the stone yard, bought a piece of white marble and took it to my work shop. There I knocked off everything that didn’t look like David.”
All of the men who surrounded me in my childhood carried sharp pocket knives. I was given my first knife on my sixth birthday. Since that time I have always carried a pocket knife. . .
I once had the privilege of watching my father use his pocket knife to save 4 prize heifers.
When the word freedom comes up in a conversation or writing, my first thought is always, “Freedom from what?”.
Over the centuries since civilization began, humans have created or encountered many things from which we would like to be free.. We want to be free from hunger, cold, injury and danger of death. We’ve had ample opportunity to want to be free from the control of cruel Tribal leaders, Kings, Caesars, Dictators and other self-appointed despots.
A few examples of the truly monstrous horses that were developed in Europe in the middle ages still exist. These giants were bred, of course, to carry the knights and their armor. The weights they were asked to bear were tremendous, sometimes as much as four hundred pounds.
Frank, who was older, had served on the Battleship North Carolina before he was selected for the V-12 program. We knew he could tell us how to get to see the real navy.
When we approached Frank, he laughed and said, "So you two kids want to get in touch with the real navy. To do that you need to go to the Algiers Navy Base down in New Orleans.
Sam rubbed on the pieces then blew on them and laughed. “Someone in the congregation has a sense of humor.”
Tom stepped closer and looked at Sam. “What do you mean, Sam? What’s so funny about trash?”
Sam laughed again. “These bits aren’t trash. They’re copper coins. You’ve been given a couple of the Widow’s Mites like Jesus talked about.”