Category: Fettig, Art

What a wonderful fall day here in Hillsborough, North Carolina. Just a bit of nip in the air and the leaves on the trees in our yard are like a rainbow. The air is so fresh and crisp and I slept like an angel last night. Certainly, all is well with the world.

One day a schoolteacher wrote on the board the following: 

Jean and I innocently walked into a local Target Store and at the front of the store they had a table with three young ladies recruiting new employees to work this Christmas season.

I’d flown in to Halifax and after two aborted landings we finally gotten on the ground.

On the morning of February 14th, 1961 I became a writer. First thing, I answered a want ad offering a used Underwood typewriter for sale.