Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The best part of funerals (if there is any such thing) is the stories told about the deceased. My Father's was no different.
My father was a town justice. In New York, that means dealing with small time drunks, druggies, domestics, etc. Apparently one of the men who used to work for us had occasion to stand in front of father. The exchange went as follows;
"The bail for Mr. S will be set at $250. Do you have that on you Mr. S?"
"Yes sir, Mr. M, I do. I have $300 on me."
"Okay then. The bail for Mr. S will be $500. You will be spending the night in jail."
I miss you Father.
And so does Mr. S.
He was a pallbearer at your funeral.
Posted by Misfit in Paradise at 1:18 PM