Page 103 - Demo
P. 103


                                    101One way or another, we were determined to track down the owner.Back in Bloomington, we waited a few days. With no response to his message, John began making phone calls, starting with the local library. Eventually, he talked to a relative of the owner who knew about the Hudsons and was able to supply a name and telephone number. With fingers crossed, John dialed, and explained our mission. Happily, he was told that, yes, he could take photographs%u2014but only if the location remained a secret. The owner did not want the whereabouts of his cache of Hudsons to be revealed. John agreed.How had I known they were Hudsons, from such a distance, under weeds, and in the duskiness of twilight? When I was a girl, my friend Rita%u2019s parents had one%u2014a light-grayishtan, swept-back Hornet. It resembled a large, pasty-looking beetle more than its svelte yellow-and-black namesake. I have a fond memory of the time Rita%u2019s mom took her, my twin sister, Lee, and me to a local Fourth of July celebration in the odd-looking car. After we parked, we three girls were told we could sit on the Hudson%u2019s roof to watch the fireworks. At least that was the plan. We soon discovered that the rear of the car made a great slide. After a couple of trips down, we were told to stop. Lee and Rita did but, Field of Hudsons%u201a somewhere in Indiana (838.06)
                                
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