Blasts From The Past
As I age, I have been experiencing names and occurrances escaping the dungeon of my memory bank, ascending the stairs and taking a brief seat in it's living room. Last night as I was taking some garbage out to the dumpster, into my head popped another one, Waldamir Schultz. Waldamir was an usher at the church my family attended when I was a child. He was a rather rotund individual whose hair - or what was left of it - hadn't seen a comb since World War II and his clothes appeared to have come from the Fred Mertz collection. You know, belt around his waist located somewhere near his chest. A life long "bachelor," Waldimir packed shoes for a living at a small warehouse and he held the distinction of being the President of the West Allis, Wisconsin Chapter of The N.A.A.C.P. For those of you uninformed as to the whereabouts of West Allis, Wisconsin, it is a white, lower middle class suburb of Milwaukee, and is home to perhaps 2 or 3 black individuals. Why Waldamir's name made a sudden appearance in my head, I'll never know. Perhaps all that drug usage is coming back to haunt me.
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