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Wednesday, May 4, 2016


Wednesday, July 23, 2008

I am elated that, you, the readers of "The Brazil Times" take time each Thursday to check out your "Neighbors" page. It is obvious that Gail Roach and I enjoy writing our columns.

Brazil Buzz first appeared on the "Neighbor's" page of this newspaper Thursday, July 25, 2002. During those six years this old country girl writer/author, call her what you want, has served up three hundred and ten articles and thousands of words- a myriad of subjects.

I introduced you to a skinny little girl that was born November, 4, 1939 in a three room house on Elm Street roughly 200 feet from the little blue house at the end of the road. I told you when she was very very good and when she was horrid, happy, sick, and sad. You stopped long enough to look back, smell the roses and explore the simple pleasures of life with this writer.

Many articles included my good buddy and mentor, one in a million-- dear old Dad, Hugh Lynch. We visualized Mother, Geneva Lynch; her head loaded with lead pencil rolled auburn curls and perfect finger waves and saw her dolled up in her beautiful blue dress. We joined her at the piano and heard her angelic voice sang the songs from the tattered brown hymnal that stood next to her favorite sheet music, Whispering Hope, and White Christmas. You sat beside us while we knotted clover chains and enjoyed channeled days. You saw me shed bittersweet tears.

I opened the door to the homestead, as it once was and welcomed you in. You dined at the antique white enamel painted table, feasted on home cooking, warmed your backside, in front of the coal range and then, in the summer, we loaded you up with vegetables and fruits of our labors, given with the freest of hearts and; I sensed your smiles.

You helped the Lynch kids tend gardens, bring in the harvests, and sprout the potatoes in the cellar before you moved on and left the page that week.

You learned that my late brother, my partner in "innocent" crime, John Wayne Lynch, the boy, was made of -- snips and snails and puppy dog tails. His guts spilled out when he drank the bitter home brew from the big brow and white dusty jug in our cellar and smoked hand rolled dried corn silks and war time cigarettes that sent him into a head spin. I followed my leader and lived to tell about it. No doubt, you laughed or frowned when you read about that bad stuff, but figured out that we stopped short of the primrose path shortly after we downed the wine.

You were special guest at a tea party hosted by my little sister, Sandra Elaine Lynch Gallardo and attended fun- filled Halloween party that she and I planned, with the help of my forever friend, the late Annetta Lee Young.

I invited you into Annie and Cebbie's make believe world, a place to escape during difficult times and giggle and play on sunshiny days.

I took you to the schools that I attended: Alabama Street School, Meridian Street School, Brazil Jr. High, State Laboratory School, Brazil Senior High and Smart Appearance Beauty School and allowed a brief glimpses through the slightly dusty window of the School of Hard Knocks.

You met my classmates and my wonderful teachers, my mentors and my treasured friends, the makers of precious moments to remember!

You read about the Sartor's elopement and noted the tension in the Lynch home when this brave soul introduced the new husband that my parents met for the first time on my wedding day. I clued you on next fifty plus years of a happy marriage and the celebration.

Several of my readers tell me they keep track of Paul Baby and I, our daughters, Starla McHugh and Lori Patrick and the grandchildren by reading Brazil Buzz.

One reader asked why I write so much about my family. I replied that I know them best. Besides I have mentioned many good folks since this column first crawled out of the workings of this old computer.

Demeaning words would cramp my style. My mother once said, " If you can't say something nice about folks, keep you mouth shut and let tongue rest!" She didn't believed in passing on rumors or stretching the truth. I feel the same as she.

Several have suggested a book would be nice.

Some readers say, "I wanted to call you, but I was afraid you would mention me and the contents of our conversation in the paper." I would never do that without your permission or request. Fact is I love to talk.

A reader close to my heart commented to me that my material might not be accepted if placed before the editor of a larger newspaper. Five newspaper editors, including The Indianapolis Star's scooted their wastebaskets aside and gave me space to explore the possibilities. New doors were open to me and I didn't walk in empty handed.

Six years ago I sat before the editor in the conference room of our local newspaper. I looked directly into his eyes. This writer from Stringtown promised that I would not disappoint Frank Phillips or the readership of "The Brazil Times" and hopefully, that has held true. I appreciate the fact that our present managing editor, Jason Moon has continued to keep me in the Neighborhood, as well! Thank you!

I am almost too exhausted now to enjoy that cold cup of coffee sitting by this old workhorse, so I'll sign off.

Wait lets back up a minute- this is not goodbye. Don't throw up those upper limbs and shout AMEN yet, because I'm and coming back, next week, to tell you about some excitement that went on at a comedy club in Chicago, after the sun went down, the moon came up and love came into play.

I need more information than that which came from the other end of the line from a happy and excited young man, that I adore, late Saturday night. I'm sure he'll step down off of his cloud by next Thursday, just long enough to tell Grandma more.

I can be reached at 446-4852 or drop me a line to 613 North Elm St., Brazil, IN., 47834 or by email at pmlsartor@aol.com.