Dear Folks, This evening I received a phone call. She identified herself as Dorothy Hammer. Although I certainly remember knowing someone by that name, I couldn't remember who she was for the life of me. But when she said she was calling from Cheektowaga (south of Buffalo) I knew exactly who she was. She works for the Cheektowaga City Council and she's in charge of keeping up a special list of addresses. It has to do with Cheektowaga's annual memorial service at the small 1812 Cemetery located there. Oh my goodness, I haven't heard from her in YEARS! She said she was calling to make certain that my address was still current. I just love Dorothy but she tends to stay on the phone talking for hours. I really had to cut her a bit short inasmuch as I was about to sit down to my dinner. She understood but said that she was hoping I'd attend the June 1812 memorial service this year. I told her it was physically impossible for me and she understood because we've had similar conversations over the past few years. Now here's what all of that was about. Back in 1988 my sister Norma and I had become very interested in the men who had died in the War of 1812. It was because of that interest that we became aware of the memorial ceremony in the 1812 cemetery in Cheektowaga. We attended a meeting that was preparing for the ceremony that year and I raised my hand to let them know that even though we didn't have an ancestor buried there we definitely had a neighbor of our gr-gr-gr-grandfather who was buried there. The neighbor was George Myers and he lived in the same township in Adams Co., PA, as our ancestor William Clark did. In fact they had served in the same company of PA Militia together. That perked up the ears of the Town Councilman and out of a clear blue sky he asked me if I would give a brief speech at the ceremony in June. I thought it over briefly and agreed to give a short talk. From 1988 to 1994 I gave a speech at the ceremony pointing out that my family who was also in attendance was there to represent all of the other families of the soldiers buried in the cemetery who never had the chance to mourn over their loved one's graves. At the end of my speech I (and my sister and my brother) laid a wreath of mourning. After six years I found that the ceremony was just too overwhelmingly emotional for me and I begged off in 1995 and ever since. I knew that I couldn't bear hearing a lone bagpiper play "Amazing Grace" again. For the past seventeen years Dorothy has sent me notices of the upcoming ceremonies but of course I couldn't attend. But by George, Dorothy just won't give up. She knows why I can't attend but that doesn't stop her from wanting to keep in touch with me. Dear Dorothy. vee