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bage-rose fabric. In the far corner stood a dark upright

piano with a painted porcelain lamp centered on the top, its

shade a faded pink with silk tassels all around. Numerous Looking for You All My Life19

decorative porcelain figures posed on tables and shelves

throughout the room. They'd probably belonged to the

wife-Nellie. All of the figurines were of children and ani-

mals-quite a nice collection actually. Maggie glanced with

interest at a tall and completely filled bookshelf by the door.

It seemed someone was a reader.

"Here we go," said Mr. Westerly as he set a neatly

arranged tray onto the low table in front of the couch. Some

of the coffee had sloshed out of the dainty cup and into the

saucer, but Maggie discreetly dabbed the excess with a small

paper napkin, then sipped her coffee, expecting it to taste

like the powdery, tasteless instant her grandmother had

always used. To her surprise it wasn't half bad.

"Good coffee," she said, pulling out her notepad and

tape recorder in preparation for the interview.

"It's Folgers. I don't drink anything but Folgers. Haven't

for years." He looked at the recorder. "What's that little

thing?"

"It's a miniature tape recorder. We reporters often use

these to get our facts straight. Do you mind if I record our

conversation?"

He grinned. "Not at all. Is this like being on the radio or

TV?".

She smiled. "Sort of." She turned on the recorder and

said the date and location. "Mr. Westerly, for today I'd

planned to mostly ask questions about the future of your

farm, but it has occurred to me that you might also have

some interesting historical stories to tell-"

"Well, after living for ninety-two years, I just might have

a tale or two."

She laughed. "That's what I figured. But since Scott Gal-

loway handles our historical column, I'd like him to schedule

that interview for another time-if that's okay with you."

"Galloway? Is he one of Jack Galloway's boys?"

"Actually, Jack is Scott's grandfather. Scott's dad is Sam

Galloway."

20Melody Carlson

"Young Sam Galloway has a grown-up son?" Mr. West-

erly scratched his nearly bald head. "Don't know how so

many years went by so fast and I didn't even notice. But sure,

I'd like to talk to this young Galloway man."

"Good. You can be thinking about what stories you'd

like to tell, and maybe get together some photographs or

other memorabilia. Now, I have some questions about your

farm. First, how long have you owned it?"

"My pa came Out here with my ma in the spring of 1901.

He came from a farm family back in Virginia. But there were

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