Jean Pamplin has a file of NETWO memorabilia that needs to find a permanent home of its own in the near future.
Jean met with Sue Barker from NTCC. Ms. Barker would like to have a panel of writers of children’s literature to meet in the Humanities Building on October 15^th. This panel will be used as a discussion group for a class of children’s literature.
Gay Ingram received an award from the Inspirational Writers at a conference for being the most outstanding writer/contributor. Congratulations, Gay!!!!!!!
Jackie Brown’s sister-in-law, Virginia Brown, passed away. A tea for remembering Virginia will be held October 17^th at the St. James Building in Texarkana, Texas.

Business Meeting Adjourned.

Respectfully submitted, Joy M. Chitsey

SEPTEMBER WRITING WORKSHOP

Photo by Bryan Freeman

Attending Jory Sherman’s workshop at the Winnsboro Center for the Arts in September were (not in order): Jerry Clark, Angela Wylie, Kay Howell, Angela Jenkins, Carol McKinney, Imelda Tatsch, Tracy Hopkins, Ted Rankin and (not shown) Graham Hopkins.

NEW MEMBERS

Ben and Charlene Donaghue

Mount Pleasant, Texas

BITS AND PIECES

Earlene Callan is now home recuperating from surgery. We wish you a speedy recovery, Earlene.

Congratulations, Gay Ingram! Her short story A Tree Fell won first place in the Sixth Annual Wild Violet Writing Contest. Wild Violet is an online quarterly literary magazine. You can read the story at http://www.wildviolet.net . Click on “Contests”, then click on “2008 winners”.

Gay also has an article in the September/October 2009 issue of Cross & Quill. Her byline and a synopsis is featured on the Christian Writers Fellowship International Website: http://www.cwfi-online.org.

Joan Hallmark of KLTV has interviewed Jory Sherman for the “Proud of East Texas” segment. The story will air:

Channel 7 - Sunday, 10/18/09 - 10:00 p.m. news

Channels 7 and 9 - Tuesday, 10/20/09 –

5 a.m. to 7 a.m. “Good Morning East Texas”, “Proud of East Texas” segment

Channels 7 and 9 – Thursday, 10/22/09 - -

11:30 a.m. “Midday”.

On Monday, 10/19/09, and beyond, the program can be viewed on the internet by going to KLTV.com.

This airing also marks Jory’s 50^th year of writing and publishing.

THOMAS KINNEY EWAN

We have just learned that

Tom Ewan passed away June 26^th after a brief illness.

The book “America Jane’s Pearls of Wisdom” was completed by Tom and his friend, Dr. Dave Johnson, and published as a tribute to his wife in 2007.

If you would like to send condolences to his family, his son’s address is:

Sam Ewan

6029 Revere Pl.

Dallas, TX 75206-9711

VIRGINIA BROWN

1924 - 2009

OF WRINKLES

No matter how delayed they be,

They always come too soon---

For at sixty-three

As ‘twas for me,

The face becomes a prune.

If fat plumps out each crease you see,

Then gorge from noon to noon---

Still, at sixty-three,

Unhappily,

The face becomes a prune.

All plastic surgeons should agree,

A fifty lift’s too soon---

For at sixty-three,

Inevitably,

The face becomes a prune.

(Virginia was awarded 1^st place in a state

BYLINE contest for this poem.)

REMEMBERING FOR AMATEURS

By William Carl

It seems to be happening more and more these days. There is something in the back of my mind that whispers to my psyche. It says there is something I should remember. Hidden in the nuances of the message is the implication that it is important.

That feeling tickled my thoughts this morning. I first considered the possibility that there was a bill I had forgotten to pay. I went to my desk in the front bedroom and rummaged through the drawer where I keep my bills. There weren’t any due within the week, so that couldn’t be what I was supposed to remember.

Next I thought about appointments for business transactions and I even called my secretary at home to see if I had forgotten something significant. She was very abrupt with me and reminded me that it was Saturday.

It was Saturday, so maybe I had a tee time with Fred for a golf game…or maybe two in this invigorating fall air. Fred wasn’t happy with me either. It seems he was under his car, changing the oil, when his son brought him the phone.

The intensity of this feeling of a forgotten critical task grew until I was convinced I had allowed a birthday, an anniversary, or an important holiday observance slip past. I dragged out my desk calendar and look for any notations and there were none.

There was an e-mail last week that recounted the experiences of some feeble-minded old goat trying to remember something and he went from one home project task to another, never finishing any of them. I didn’t see how someone could lose focus like that but I decided to give it a try.

Now, I have roamed through the entire house, looking for clues to what it is that I can’t remember. Passing the living room window, there is a most unusual sight. Why is my wife sitting in our car by herself? She doesn’t look happy. ?

ONE WAY OR THE OTHER

By Ted L. Rankin

Summertime was well underway by the last week in June of 1905. Baseball had been the game of the day since the last week in April, and this morning the neighborhood bunch was beginning the morning’s ballgame on the sandlot ball field at the end of the neighborhood street. Being on the edge of West Fort Worth, there weren’t too many houses around or wagons on the streets.

“All right, Pee Wee, burn it in here. Hector can’t hit a barn with a base fiddle,” shouted Ron Peterschmitt, catcher for the West Fort Worth Alley Rats, the little league club of eleven-to-thirteen-year-old boys.

Today the game was just practice and the opposing team consisted of stragglers who hadn’t signed up for a baseball club or hadn’t been asked to play for a club. When the game had been going on for an hour or more and the August sun was approaching high noon, everyone was running more slowly around the bases.

“Whew! It’s getting too hot to play anymore,” Ron groaned. “Let’s go find some shade.”

“Let’s go over to Mr. Chaney’s workshop,” Pee Wee urged the group. “He has got some great trees with an acre of shade. I’ve had enough of this sun. Come on, everybody. Let’s see who’ll be first,” he yelled. He had already starting running since he had been standing when he announced the race. A mad scramble ensued and quickly seven boys were running at their top speed and shouting at the same time as they rounded the Oak Street corner about a block from Mr. Chaney’s workshop.

Mr. Chaney’s head jerked straight up from his whittling project—his favorite pastime—a baseball bat. Wide-eyed, he stared into the faces of seven boys with baseball gloves flapping on their belts and baseball shoes held together by knotted show laces dangling around their necks. The boys were racing like a herd of stallions and headed straight for the old man as he sat on the porch of his shop.

“Whoa, hold up now! Watch it, you’re running too fast and you’re going to run into my lumber pile. Watch it, I say, dang it!” he yelled as the swarm ran past him and all began to slide into a make-believe home plate. The sliding group created a huge cloud of dust that covered the running as well as Mr. Chaney.

He swung his arms to drive the dust away from his face and from the quart canning jar that contained his lemonade and bourbon drink. He always kept both the jar and the new plug of black burley tobacco close at hand.

“Blast you, you hoodlums, you and your running and scooting in this here place. Look at the dust in my drink and on my new plug of tobacco. I ought to take this bat and wallop some of you good and strong. I would, too, if it wasn’t so hot and the bat being brand new.

“Anyway, none of you is worth the trouble. I’ll just wait until I see the new deputy. He is just dying to arrest someone that won’t turn on him and give him static. You boys will do just about fine, I reckon,” Mr. Chaney chuckled at his humor.

“Oh, we’re sorry, Mr. Chaney. We’ll be real careful the next time we come to see what you are up to,” Bobby Smith, the team’s third baseman, innocently spoke.

“Yeah, what do you mean ‘to see what I’m up to’?” Mr. Chaney growled and squinted one eye as he looked at Bobby Smith. “Who have you been talking to? Huh, Boy?”

Stammering and stuttering, Bobby tried to get out of Mr. Chaney’s baleful stare.

Abruptly, Pee Wee jumped between Mr. Chaney and Bobby. “Tell us a baseball story, Mr. Chaney. Did you ever play baseball?” looking innocently at the old man. Everyone there knew that J. P. “Sidearm” Chaney had played baseball all over Texas and the Oklahoma Territory as an early Texas Leaguer.

Mr. Chaney reached down to get his fruit jar of special drink, and took a long slow swallow while trying to think of a good story for the group.

Of course!

Suddenly, he knew just the story for the group. He also knew that everyone would rush to tell the amazing story all over town. This story would cause funds to be raised for both a ball game and the fireworks for the Fourth of July.

“Well, boys, I’ll bet that not one of you has ever heard of the Wichita Nation Braves baseball club, have you?” He began his tale. “This team plays out of Axberg, Oklahoma, which is just north by east of Wichita Falls. The Wichita Nation team has played in the Texas League on occasion when some of the League’s home towns couldn’t field a team for whatever reason.”

“Can the Wichita Nation get a team up when they need to, Mr. Chaney?” Ron Peterschmitt asked.

“Why, certainly they can, boy. They have got the entire Nation to draw players from if need be. There are two fellers that play on the team who can throw a ball so fast that a runner can’t see it. Tom Tallfellow plays on first base and Georgie Littlefellow plays on second base.

“If a runner ever gets off of first base and heads for second, those two fellers begin throwing the ball back and forth. They throw the ball slowly, at first. Then they begin throwing it very fast. They say that a runner loses sight of the ball and ends up stopping.

“Suddenly, Tom Tallfellow will walk up to the runner and stand beside him without a ball in his hand.”

“What are you doing?” the runner usually asks Tom.

“Just this,” as Georgie would rocket the ball to Tom without the runner ever knowing that the ball had just passed him. “You’re out,” Tom would call loudly as he would tag the runner with the now present ball.

“That’s not fair. No one can throw a ball that fast. You were hiding that ball all the time,” the runner would shout.

“Occasionally a runner would really get upset and start yelling at Tom. At that point, the runner’s team captain and manager were usually running to save the irate player before he got clobbered by a thrown ball coming at a high rate of speed. Some of those boys that got hit became awfully shy of a ball thrown close by. Those balls have ruined many a good man who wasn’t smart enough to leave the two basemen well enough alone, or so the story goes.”

“Well, that won’t happen with the West Fort Worth Rangers. We’ve got Clancy McGruff, the fastest of all base runners throughout Texas,” Ron Peterschmitt exclaimed. “No one can catch him. He’s stolen seventy-five bases so far this year.”

“Do you think that those two fellow could catch Mr. McGruff, Mr. Chaney?” he asked.

“I really don’t know, Ron,” he responded innocently.

“Come on, guys,” Ron Peterschmitt said, as he stood up in the center of the players. “We need to find Mr. McGruff. He has to hear about those two guys that can throw out all base runners in the Western Oklahoma Territory.” He continued talking as he led the players up

towards the City Hall. By now, everyone was gesturing and talking at the same time as they were walking.

As they entered the hallway of the building, their excited voices bounced off the ceilings and walls. Employees stuck their heads out of their offices to see what the commotion was about.

“Mr. Mayor, Mr. McGruff, we need you,” the seven voices called together.

“What’s going on out here?” The deep voice of Mr. McGruff echoed as the Mayor stepped into the hallway in front of the excited ball players.

“Mr. Mayor, you won’t believe what we heard,” PeeWee Smith began. “There is a baseball team out in Axberg, Oklahoma that has a team made up from the Wichita Nation League.”

“And, Mr. Mayor, they say that there are two players that can throw a ball so fast that they trap every ball player who tries to steal second base. They say that no one can outrun their fast ball,” Bobby Smith hurriedly spoke.

“Do you know who you are talking to? Boys, have you forgotten who is the fastest base runner in all of Texas? Well, we will just have to see if those fellows would like to play a little Texas style of baseball this Fourth of July,” spoke the Mayor in his best electioneering voice.

“But, Mr. Mayor, we heard that the town was out of money so that we couldn’t have both a ball game and fireworks, too,” stated Ron Peterschmitt.

“I’ll take care of the town’s business. After all, boys, you are talking to the Mayor and best base runner in all of Texas. I wouldn’t disappoint our growing baseball players on this Fourth of July, would I?” asked the Mayor in his most officious way.

“Whoopie! Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” shouted seven young voices and a few adult voices, too.

“Hey, Chaney, what did you say to those boys to get them so stirred up?” John Richardson asked as he walked up to Chaney who was calmly whittling on a new baseball bat.

“Why, hello there, John. Oh, I didn’t do much. I was talking about baseball with the boys, and I told them that I had heard about a ball club out in Western Oklahoma that had two players that could throw out every base runner that has ever tried to steal second base.

“So the next thing I know was that they were going to tell Clancy McGruff about that team.”

“Well, you knew that Clancy had said that there was not to be both a ball game and fireworks for the Fourth of July holiday this year?” John responded.

“Yep, that’s what he said, all right.”

At that moment there was a loud noise up at City Hall. Bounding down the steps of City Hall came Pee Wee. He turned onto Oak Street and raced down the hill toward Mr. Chaney’s workshop. As he ran, he was shouting with every step, “Mr. Chaney, Mr. Chaney, we’re gonna have the ball game of the century on the Fourth of July. Mr. McGruff said that no baseball team could stop him from stealing any base that he wanted.”

“Well, I’ll be durned. You got a ball game on the Fourth, didn’t you, Chaney?” Shaking his head in wonderment, John Richardson commented, “You got any bats for sale this year?”

“Yep, I’ve got one or two you might say,” pausing as he looked at John. “And by the way, I told you that I was gonna get a ball game this year either by hook or crook. I just let the boys set the hook for the event. T’weren’t nothing wrong with that, I should think.

“We’re going to have a dandy Fourth of July this year,” he grinned, as he took one more swallow of his favorite summer drink. ?

MARKETS

WHATEVER LOVELY MAGAZINE www.whateverlovely.com

a FREE online magazine for women:

We are looking for writers for all our themes.

We pay for items: $1 per article, $1 per 3 poems accepted. For smaller fill ins, we pay $1 if a photo is available as well or .50 per item.
We pay with PayPal only unless you are willing to have cost of a stamp removed from your pay.
We want fiction, non-fiction, poetry and photos of lovely things, lovely places, lovely people, lovely memories, lovely family traditions

and lovely items you have and treasure.

We want book reviews and movie reviews of items that would be G-rated that ladies would enjoy.
We want lovely devotionals and bible studies.
We need photos with as many of these articles as possible. Currently we need items in all categories.
We only accept E-mail submissions.

Please send your submissions to Teresa@hshighlights.com

Write “Whatever Lovely Submission” in the subject box.

If your item is an attachment, make sure your name, e-mail etc. are on the attachment as well as in the e-mail.

We will answer within one week of receiving your e-mail.

You will retain all rights to your submissions. t

www.higherfaithpublications.com.

This is a new E book publisher that mainly is interested in publishing anthologies with four or more novella length stories in each.

They prefer more old fashioned stories that take place before World War II. They prefer Christian items, but very clean stories will be considered. Most of these will be light romance but other genres will be considered as well.

Currently they are paying between $10 and $20 for stories to be included in upcoming anthologies.

Some themes are:

1. White Picket Fence Stories (we want to think it’s a wonderful life here).

2. Christmas Village Stories (based on those Christmas villages that you put up at Christmas.

3. Christmas Angel Stories

4. Quilt Stories

5. Small Town Texas Stories

6. Orphan Train Stories (older teen girls 16-18 as main character)

7. Country Town Fairs Stories

8. All Holiday Stories. t