Poppa. What a character he is.

I remember Poppa and me carving pumpins for the kids one Halloween, and we'd grown this giant pumpkin--must've weighed 50 pounds -- and Poppa he carved out the bottom of this thing and went tearing around town with big ole' pumpkin on top of his head. Kids all screaming and running from him.

He slipped on a patch of ice and cracked his tail bone.

He's been slowing down a lot. Which I guess is natural.

Don't know what I'll do when he goes. Lotta people around here feel like him passing means something important in the town is gonna go with him. Lotta people want me to keep the place goin'.

But I just don't know. Seems kinda lonely thinking about that old Conoco without Poppa.

Maybe I'll turn it into a museum or something like that.

I just don't know.

Back to the stove

This story was created at the 1st Annual Digital Storytelling Festival
©1995 by Greg Roach