The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,7

and uncles and aunts and cousins. Twice a year we’d pack up the car and drive north to visit our grandparents, and in actuality, this was also a trip into the past.”

“What do you mean?” said Miss Planter, writing quickly now.

“Our grandparents were all born in the late 1800s, and they had a way and manner about them that was different from the modern 1960-type of person I was used to. They had been born before the turn of the 20th century, and were married before World War I. They were too old for World War II, and my Dad and uncles all joined the military during that time. Realize that they lived in the country away from the big cities; they had grown up without electricity, no indoor plumbing, no radio, television, phones, appliances, and no Social Security. I got to see and visit with people who were used to ‘making do’ with what they had, and never seemed to be in a rush.”

“That is like stepping into another world,” said Miss Planter. She was getting involved in my story; now I knew she was really listening. She shook her head. “Excuse me for interrupting, please continue.”

“You didn’t interrupt me, Miss Planter,” I said. “Jump in anytime you feel like; I like feedback.”

“That seems to be quite a special memory,” remarked Miss Planter, returning to her professional mode.

“The grandparents were quite old when I knew them; they all passed away when I was a teenager. Even now, thirty-plus years later, I still miss them. I feel I know them better now than I did when I was a kid, because I got Mom and Dad to tell me stories about them.”

“At least you got to know your grandparents,” said Miss Planter, giving me a glimpse into her life. That almost seemed to be a wistful remark.

After a few moments, Miss Planter said, “Well, you seem to have had a good relationship with your folks and relatives. No major issues here, hopefully. Why don’t we move to the people in your immediate neighborhood. I assume you had friends, didn’t you? Why don’t you tell me about them?”

This question was like turning on a spigot of water. “Yes, I had friends growing up. They were almost like extra brothers and sisters. In fact, during the early sixties, we lived in a neighborhood where there were at least 40 children in the immediate vicinity. If we ever got bored, all we had to do was to step outside into the front yard, and there was always something going on with the children. It was a great neighborhood. And this was before the pill took hold, so there were lots of kids around to play with. Family was still the main means of raising and taking care of children. They weren’t all perfect; we weren’t all perfect, but they still existed.”

Miss Planter’s eyes flashed here. “Tell me about your neighborhood. I’d like to hear some stories concerning the children you grew up with.”

“Miss Planter, you’ve just struck oil; I can tell you stories that I’ve carried with me for years.”

“Good, I’d like to hear some of them.”

Miss Planter looked at the clock on the wall, and said, “You’ll have to save that for next time, Mr. Owen. I’ve got another patient to see in five minutes.”

On Lovely Hill

“Live, from Lovely Hill, it’s Darla Bell with a KDBC news special, and with us today is Hal Ostrander, chairman of the board of directors of the Lovely Chocolate Company.”

This one sentence opened a special local television KDBC News Show, which most of the people of Lovely watched, at least half of them being affected by the financial well-being of the city’s largest and most influential business. And half of those viewers tuned in to watch the ever-perky Darla Bell, local newslady who would obviously leave Lovely one day at the summons of one of the national news networks, or, if she chose, could work for any media company in the southern hemisphere, since she was fluent in Spanish.

“Mr. Ostrander, how close were you to Cornelius Lovely?” she asked, hoping to unearth a little emotional drama for ratings’ sake.

“I can’t say I was close to Mr. Lovely, per se, but of all the members of the board and Lovely staff and employees, I think I could safely say I knew him best.”

“What kind of man was Mr. Lovely?” Darla asked, since the first answer fizzled on the emotional level.

“Mr. Lovely was a very principled, very disciplined