The busy life of a not too retiring man, Pt. 5

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The Crow rescue Society

Its dusk the next day and I am going to finish this story. I’ve added one today. The League of Women’s Voters held a candidate’s forum at the PACT office in City Hall. Afterwards I had a sobering chat with candidate and old friend Loren Martel that came too late for me to bow out of the campaign. He showed me three sheets of paper that I will need time to digest. Its been eight years since I paid much attention to the School Board in the DNT news blackout. No Education reporters barely a daily paper.

I have been looking forward to hiring more teachers with the the 20 year Red Plan bonds coming to an end. It doesn’t look that will happen. It seems that our teachers got a well deserved raise based on the coming end of bond payments. But it was a massive raise and it means that we will not be able to hire additional teachers to reduce class sizes. That at least based on a short conversation is what I imagine will be our near future.

Oh and the Union official I showed my returned questionnaire to informed me that a document I failed to read and sign was the reason I had not qualified to talk to the union endorsement committee. I didn’t recall seeing it but it strikes me as a particularly small minded thing to stiff a candidate that the union might have to deal with should I be elected. But there were those crows yesterday

I took a walk around Ordean East Middle School. As I rounded the athletic fields where I’ve watched my younger Grandson play soccer I saw a crow trapped in the batting cage. He claws got tangled in the netting when he crashed from one side to the other. I decided to try and free him so I walked on to third street and walked up Hawthorn to see if I could find a way past the high chain link fences. Nope. That didn’t stop me from seeing if I was too thick to squeeze under a gate. I got to my hips and realized I’d leave something behind if I tried any harder. So I made a call to a School Board member I knew Henry Banks. I left a message. Then I called the Superintendent’s office and explained my challenge. Then I went around the silent building knocking on all the doors.

A petite lady walking a tiny terrier with a night light on its collar said hello. She obviously knew me and when I confessed I didn’t recognize her she reminded me that she was the girl friend of the sociopath who took me for a ride a decade ago by digging my daughter’s house into a hole. Oh God. I wrote about him but can’t think of his name. Anyway we both agreed he was a sociopath and she added narcissist. About the crow she had seen it earlier in the cage and some boys playing soccer told her it had been there a few days.

Back to the other side of the fields I saw an older woman and her dog staring at the crow. We compared notes. She had just seen it. As a person who feeds crows she was as concerned as I was. She asked if I could climb the fences that are posted no climbing. I told her about my failed attempt to shimmy under them. She wondered if a thin kid could climb the fence…she mention a girl. I told her the crow had been in there for a while. She mused he was probably hungry she went home to get some peanuts to feed him as she fed other crows.
She wasn’t gone long when a mother and her daughter showed up. In a flash the daughter shimmied under the fence ran to the cage and lifted the netting to get in. This did not amuse the crow.

I suggested using a stick to lift the netting and went to the woods behind me to grab one with a fork. I returned and tossed it to her. Henry Banks called me. After I told him who I was he said there was nothing on his answering machine. (The next morning the Superintendent’s secretary would call and tell my my message was too garbled for them to follow) I explained that the Crow rescue society was about to free the crow and thanked him for returning my call. The girl’s mother went home to get some caramel corn to feed the hungry bird.

I walked home.

Now I’ll try to keep my eyes open and read more about the war in North Africa.

About the author

Harry is a ferociously good natured eccentric in Duluth Minnesota who detests traitors dressed up as Uncle Sam. You can find somewhat better edited writings of his at the Duluth Reader "contributors." page. The URL is:

https://duluthreader.com/contributors/h/84/284-harry-welty