Warehouse Memories

By: Wayne Head Two stories have been bouncing around in my head recently, and I thought that I would share them with you. These stories highlight two very disparate and memorable men that I met within a calendar year of each other. The first man was the bread deliveryman for the U.S. Army Commissary in Darmstadt, Germany. I had my first and only conversation with him around June of 1978 while I was the foreman of the commissary warehouse. He always dressed in a dapper manner with a long green…

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Stormy Night Continued

by: Matt Hall “Shadow was stopped by three armed guards. He was forced to surrender, slowly put down his bag and the hard-drive, and walk toward them.  When he got right up to them they turned him around and firmly hit him on the back of the head. When Shadow woke up he was looking at a single bright light in a dark room that smelled like body sweat and trash. He was tied to a wooden chair.”     Where was he? As he struggled to be free of…

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Matt Hall’s A Stormy Night

It was a stormy night. Random flashes of lightning revealed the shadow of a man. Surrounded by tall, treeless mountains and  a lighthouse in the middle of a  still and dark sea, the man’s shadow seemed to be a magnet for a  larger  shadow that appeared to be following  it from the sea to the shore.  As the larger shadow hit the sandy beach, it came to a complete halt. The man then turned , approached the dark mass, and retrieved a black bag from it. Strapping the bag to his back, he…

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