Years ago, when I had first hired Mr. Cross to address my messes in the detective office, attend to telephone calls and handle my mailings and such, he placed an opened, pale blue envelope on the ol’ tanker in a la-de-da manner. With
Tag: The Omaha Theater
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As I remember it, I was eating a hot fudge sundae with my grandmother at a local ice cream fountain. It was an odd little 1950’s leftover, the kind of fountain that doesn’t really exist any more in these parts. My grandmother would park her