Her name was Eugena Hoover. Well, it may have been Eugene, but Eugena seems more feminine, so I'll go with that. She was my high school English teacher. Anyway, I have recently heard that she passed away a few years back. But, at least I had the opportunity to tell her daughter that Mrs. Hoover is probably the reason I am alive today. Mrs. Hoover may not have been able to teach me the correct way to use words, puntuation and all of the stuff that makes for a good writer. But, she taught me the importance of writing. And I remember a lecture when she told us that she was not as concerned about how we wrote as she was concerned with the fact that we learned to write it down, and write it the way we would say it. She said, "If you are writing a book where one of your characters is from England he has to speak like an Englishman, not an Okie."
So, I write. I write about writing. I write about me. I write about work, politics, people, photography, music. I write about life. And now, after 40+ years of adulthood (?), and somewhat of a hairy ride through life, I realize that writing about this stuff is most likely what brought me through my life. And, writing about it is the way I have regained my sanity through the hard times, and the reason I am still here today.
Thank you Mrs. Hoover!!!
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