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Synopsis

Some folks will often ask Tom what his columns in that Wisconsin newspaper are all about. He will answer, “Do you mean the one in the Fennimore Times, called Fennimore…As I remember?”…As though there were any other. Then he will respond:
“Oh, I write about a special place, friends and neighbors, happy times… what ever. Like swimming pools and pool halls, town constables and chiefs. City parks, paper routes, pastors, parsons and priests.
“I won’t forget town and country schools and dedicated teachers there within. With tales of playground hi-jinks…all to make you grin.
“The old places called a Blacksmith Shop, Gus shoeing horses at the open door. Fred Doan the Harness maker, Bill Buri, Wagon builder…these craftsmen are no more.
“The Fenway Theater packed with kids, admission one thin dime. A Friday double feature …Roy, Gene and Hopalong, cowboys for all time.
“There are neighborhoods and life long friends, creameries making cheese. Sparky’s Saturday night dances, ‘May I have this waltz…Please?’
“I claim my stories are but true, as best I can remember. And many do agree, but others shout… ‘Not in April, t’was in November!’
“Best of all, even strangers come to me and say, ‘I know this place and the stories that you tell. Just change the names, for then you’ll see…Fennimore’s my hometown as well.’

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