My Dad and My Grandfather and me watching as poor old Bash Berkley’s house burned down on a warm July evening in our little country village in Southwestern Ohio.
Bash was elderly and a widower and he lived alone, and the whole town felt so bad for him on this fateful night when the last possessions he ever owned went up in smoke. It seems that Bash had dropped a container of kerosene on the floor near his ancient pot bellied heating stove and it had ignited and spread quickly.
Bash said he felt lucky to get out alive but he was unharmed.
I remember my Mom made some chicken and dumplings and gave them to Bash and other neighbors did what they could to help him out.
It wasn’t long after the fire that Bash went into the “Old Folks Home” run by the county and in a few more months after that he was gone forever.
IT'S ME AGAIN 