Remembering the old bus driver
While placing planters on some graves for Memorial Day, I get a chance to walk around and see some of the markers and remember the people buried there.
Today, I saw the grave of my old bus driver, August Lindberg, and his wife Nora.
I remember August from the first day of kindergarten.
Scared and not knowing what to expect, that first big bottom step felt a lot like a step taken two years earlier on the moon.
Are you a newspaper subscriber but you don't have a Digital Access account yet? https://secure.forumcomm.com/?publisher_ID=40&event=subscriber/lookup.
You will need your subscription account number and phone number. Not sure if you have an account? Email us at email@example.com and we can help you.