There were only four of us at bible study this morning. Tom and Kathy are on their way to Texas, one of the Helens is still recovering from surgery and Peggy is in Florida. Joe did not make it. And of course our Fran's funeral was this evening.

We had a nice study but veered off of the subject to talk about Fran and what she means to us. We all agreed that she certainly went the way we all would like to. She just collapsed and was gone to God. Much better than lingering in pain as many do.

Then I went over to Mom's and we had a nice visit. I told her that my friend, Beth, knows the woman who bought our old house. It is a woman with two children an she is fixing it up. That made Mom feel good as we lived there for over 50 years. It was amusing because the new owner was told by someone that she bought the Deeley house and that it had always been red with white trim. It is gray now but she went outside and found that there is red paint under the gray. She was also told about our "bombing" by the army when there was a base at Haven.

The planes went out over the Lake one winter evening and one of the planes ejected at least three of its pieces of live ammunition on the City of Sheboygan Falls.

Our family was all gathered in the lower level of the house shortly after supper, except for my brother Tim, who had gone upstairs. My boyfriend at the time, Jumbo Martin, was there for the evening too. Suddenly we heard the loudest crash from the upstairs and thought that Tim had knocked something really big over. But when we went upstairs, there was Tim, looking into the left back bedroom and there was dust and debris flying all over the place and a hole in the ceiling that came right through a beam.

There were also two or three gouges in the floor. After searching, we found under the bed what looked like a very large bullet. So we called the police. They came and took a report and the bullet with them.. Dad and the police were all handling it very casually. Later, we found out that it was a live piece of ammo.

Later, we also found out that a home in another part of town was also hit, right next to a baby crib and a small fire started. Another shell was found in the street. Miraculously no one was hurt.

The Army did an investigation. I don't know the final results but they paid for the repairs on the house and gave Dad a model of the plane and a unloaded shell for a souvenir. It was altogether an exciting time. Dad fixed the roof and ceiling himself and had money leftover for something, I am not sure what. And one day a special delegation of officers came to the house to personally apologize to Mother for the incident.


And that is the story of the time our own Army bombed us.

Tonight I went to Blessed Trinity to join the choir at Fran's funeral. She looked lovely. And we sang as best we could as she was in the choir forever and loved the joyful music. It was a beautiful service and I am glad I could go.


God love you

Mary