CrisisCity ©2000 SL Stinnett

Chapter 6 - Telegraph Days, Plate 1 - The Avenue Crew



Agnes came along a little later. She had strolled by my stand one day and somehow we started talkin' politics.

You can't really talk politics in America. For one thing, except for popular trash, most of us don't read much. For another, we don't know how to argue without pulling out our six shooters.

But talkin' politics with Agnes was the best. For me it was like water in a desert. She started coming by everyday.

Eventually she was just there all the time. I got an extra chair for the booth and it became hers. She’d watched the stand for me when I had to run errands.

Agnes parents were hard line Marxists. They smuggled her out of Germany in '36, sent her to America and went off to join the International Brigade in Spain.

(read the The Official Spanish History )

She never saw them again. She didn't have children, her husband had passed and all the rest of her own family were consumed by the War, The Holocaust and time.

Agnes sort of adopted Belcher and me though she was always a little leery of Belcher, often referring to him simply as "that one". But me, she loved. She seemed convinced I was Jewish. Who knows maybe I am. What American really knows his family's complete history?

I do know that I've never had a Jewish mother before. I found that they really do have this thing for chicken soup.

She also had a sharp mind. Sharp, quick and deep. She taught me a lot. In between her complaints about her health, the state of liberal politics in America, and the choice of dress of the UCB coeds she could come up with some real first class thinking.

We were quite a team, Belcher, Agnes and me, the Avenue Crew. Looking back on it those were good days, the “Telegraph Days” Funky, gritty, noisy, and alive. I had a lot of fun.

But things change. Things can really change.


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