Ode to Miss Gladys Evelyn McCormick

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Sometimes, upon an older person’s extending his hand, in greeting, I inwardly hear Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner: “He holds him with his skinny hand/’There was a ship,’ quoth he./’Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!’/Eftsoons his hand dropt he.” Little do these people know I associate such high drama with mere extension…
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How West Warwick Kids ‘Did’ Summer:

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  Crompton ‘Free’ Library…Camp Ayoho…Vacation Bible School She’d been really sweet—the reader, that is. Telling me I ‘made her smile,’ with my accounts appearing here, each Saturday She said I stoked her own memories. We chatted back and forth on one of West Warwick’s Facebook pages where I post these articles and she mentioned the…
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The Day of Yellow Rain

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“My cats came in covered in yellow,” one person stated. Another said her mother saw barrels of the Crayola-yellow stuff positioned against the fence that separated the neighborhood of Windsor Park from the Hoechst chemical facility. I posted a shorter version of this story to several Facebook pages dedicated to West Warwick, and I got…
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Guest-speaking: To Be Compared to Her is ‘Heaven,’ Indeed

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“Colleen, you’re like the Erma Bombeck of Rhode Island education.” That’s what one person said who reads my regular educational Op-Ed’s in the Providence Journal. I loved the fact he compared me to a witty lady who had a wonderful, common-sense approach to things. Like Erma, I like to use humor to get my message…
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