Thank you, Otto Ringle! Storytelling is an art, and you, sir, are a good storyteller.

Your memories have brought to life, the sounds and smells of horses pulling wagons and the sight of men delivering tongs of saw dust frosted lake ice so that folks could keep their food fresh. I have been pretty certain that I have experienced the alcohol, medicinal smell of the old hospital and tasted the beer from mugs sliding down the bar in one of the many watering holes. I have been able to hear the tinkling of the jingle dresses a long with the drum beats of the powwows of past days.

Your historical gift has been written in the language of different times. Some of us, today, still refer to a night out with friends as a “girls’ night out,” even though all of us are way past the age of 17. And, I know for a fact, that the local banks have hired males as tellers.

For the record, Doc Ringle, I have never been offended by your choice of language in your writings, and I believe that most folks feel the same. I have, however, been grateful for your efforts, and I look forward to your weekly column.

Keep up the great work ... lots of us love you.

Maribeth Crowell

Benedict

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