The Literary Corner: Renegade Writer’s Guild

Published 9:41 am Thursday, February 6, 2020

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“Name, Rank, and Serial Number!”

By Kevin F. Wishon

Recently, I took a 12-day staycation at a local hospital and partook of their services and hospitality. More times than I could recall, a member of the hospital staff would ask me for my name and date of birth. It was verification to ensure I was the correct patient. This information was requested daily. Nightly, it was the same. Moreover, it was required whenever transported in or out of a patient room.

After five days, my patience with these continuous requests began to wear thin. So, I mentally prepared a few humorous replies for any future verifications. Oh, I had some great ones. I was sure these replies would generate laughs and lighten my mood. On the sixth morning, I was about to proceed with my humorous responses, when a thought occurred to me. Several years ago, a doctor came to my room and spoke of medication and procedures unfamiliar to me. On that occasion, the doctor had not asked me for my name or date of birth.

This error became unpleasant when the doctor began arguing with me that they had indeed read my file and had the correct patient. Thankfully, I had enough mental clarity to remain defiant until the doctor left and later returned apologizing for the mix-up. I shivered at the thought of what could have occurred if I had not argued.

After that frightening memory, the results of a medical study popped into my mind. It instantly reminded me that verification is genuinely essential. In 2008 a test conducted to see if a checklist introduced into a surgical theater would improve operating room procedures revealed several positive findings. Though skeptical, the medical participants later replied that the list had been beneficial. It showed that checklists improved workflow and influenced doctor/nurse cooperation.

With these recollections in mind, I halted my plan to give silly replies for ID requests. Although incredibly annoying, these verification requests had a purpose. It was to avoid mix-ups or, worse, an uncorrectable error. As for my humorous replies, I forgot most of them. They’re not worth my well-being.

“An Uninvited Guest”

By David R Moore

The cold air nipped our noses that clear December night as we weaved our car through the quiet neighborhood.  Darkness was broken with houses decorated with colorful strings of lights and candles glistening from windows, short and tall. Christmas trees covered with decorations could be discerned in homes, giving warmth to children’s dreams. The house at the end of the cul-de-sac greeted us with its Moravian star and beckoning porch lights. A beautiful Christmas wreath hung on the great wooden front door.

Upon the sound of a chime, our host opened his home to us.  When we entered, we were greeted by a rush of warmth and the smell of evergreen and mulled apple cider.  Before the door was closed, a blur of brown flew into the great room.  Circling around the cathedral ceiling, the small Carolina Wren flew as exclamations sounded from the humans below.  The bird finally settled in the adjacent dining room, landing on top of the long red curtains.

“I know what to do,” our host said as he quickly shuttered all other rooms.  “Step away from the door so not to block its flight.”

We stepped to the back of the room as he opened wide his front door.  He then turned off all the lights in the house including the lights on the Christmas tree but kept the front porch lights burning.  In the darkness, our host circled behind the bird and forced it to leave its resting spot.  The wren flew back into the great room, but instead of flying out the illuminated door to freedom, it chose to alight on a high ceiling fan.

A long pole was obtained to encourage the bird to fly.  Unfortunately upon each flight with circling around the dark room for a spell, the little bird usually landed under a piece of furniture or on the stone masonry above the fireplace.  Numerous times the host had to crawl on the darkened floor to coax the visitor out from the security it found beneath a chair or table.  It seemed uninterested in flying into the cold night air.

Tired of being chased, the wren flew deep into the Christmas tree.  Even with flashlights we were unable to see where it hid.  Someone suggested moving the tree outside so the bird would find its own way to its natural habitat.  We quickly observed that the stand that held the decorated tree also held a large amount of water.  No wanting to slosh water on the beautiful carpeted floor, we decided to separate the tree from its stand.  With effort, the tree was lifted straight up from its stand and ever so carefully moved to the front door avoiding the dropping of glass ornaments and strings of lights.  As the tree was squeezed through the door, our small wren decided to vacate the evergreen tree and return again to the great room.

With the Christmas tree now outside, efforts again were taken to encourage the bird to fly out the lighted door.  Eventually the wren realized that it was not welcomed in the grand home with its warming air (now replaced by cold outside air).  The uninvited visitor finally flew out the open door.

The Christmas tree was carefully returned to the home and repositioned on its stand.  Lights were illuminated, and the evening festivities commenced without the presence of the intruder.

The next time we visited the house, we were asked to enter through the garage as the perky wren continued to find shelter in the Christmas wreath that hung from the door.  Our host was not willing to open his door to the Carolina Wren again.

“The Boone Connection”

By Linda H. Barnette

As a genealogist living in this part of North Carolina, I had always wondered as have many others if I had any sort of family connection to Daniel Boone or to anyone in his family. I never pursued it because I was busy working on other family groups.  So while I was doing the research on the Dwiggins family and Center Church, my memory went back to the 150th anniversary of that church and to the article about it in the “Enterprise” in 1988.  In any case, I finally found the connection that I needed in order to verify that long ago relationship.

In any case, my connection is to John Boone, Daniel’s first cousin.  John’s mother died when he was young, so he lived with Squire and Sarah Boone, his aunt and uncle and Daniel’s parents. He came here with them in the mid 1700’s. He was, in fact, the family historian.  Boone married a woman named Rebecca, whose name is often written as Bryan, but whose surname is not on any legal papers such as deeds nor in the will of Morgan Bryan. The Boones bought over 1,000 acres of land, most of which is in the area of the Hunting Creek.  Some of it was part of the original Earl Granville land grant to John “Boon” on August 15, 1766.

The original homesite was located on what is now Boone Farm Road and has long since disappeared; however, my grandmother, who was born in 1891, told me one time that she recalled going to the John Boone cabin for a taffy-pull when she was a little girl!!  Her family lived in the same approximate area. There is a picture of the cabin in the James Wall Davie County history book as well as in the architectural history of our county.

John and Rebecca had nine children, one of whom was Hannah (1779-1857).  She married James Penry, and they had several children, most of whom are buried at Center.  In fact, their son Boone Penry was the first person buried there to begin the history of the cemetery.

In any case, my family connections come from the Penry line as it was the brother of James Penry, Samuel, who married Mary McMahon, whose son Joel married Ursula Dwiggins, the daughter of my ancestors Daniel and Ursula Dwiggins.

As for John Boone, some say that he is buried somewhere on his property.  Others think he might be buried at Joppa, but that we will never know. He lived until 1803 when his children acquired his property.  John, Jr. sold it to Ashley Crews and the Rev. Daniel Dwiggins in 1813, so that is where those two original deeds passed down to my grandmother and my aunt and eventually to the Davie County Public Library.

So you can see how those of us who do genealogy work, which is often tedious and time-consuming, rejoice when we find a gem such as this!!


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