HERE'S TO YOU, JOPLIN

The tornado that ripped up a quarter of Joplin, Missouri yesterday is especially sad news since I once lived there with Dr. Maureen before she was ever a doctor and I a teacher. We were both young, struggling TV-radio news reporters who didn't much care for the bad news end of the business. In fact, we just mainly excelled in socializing and took pride in being "10-per centers" for a company that demanded "110 per cent." Needless to say, we only stayed around for a year, but it was fun, nonetheless.

We had two key hangouts: Frank's Lounge and Denny's. Both are located towards the south end of the city, so they may have been damaged by the tornado. Frank's is where our station's senior reporter Mr. Phillips held court with us younger minions. A bachelor with an unusual fascination for German Nazi history (Maureen and I made him a Swastika-shaped cake for his 40th birthday and he was thrilled), he was the only one of us, I think, who actually knew Frank and who had been a customer since the place opened its door. The rest of us were just barely past the legal drinking age. The picture above is from one of our many Frank's outings, a reunion visit in 1977. Maureen is interviewing me with a pool stick and Mr. Phillips, rest his soul, is peeking out between his favorite girls, "Murph" and "Squeaks."

Trips to Denny's were strictly between Maureen and me and were always late at night. Coffee runs. Sometimes we'd liven up the visits by pretending we only spoke a foreign language. Other times the waitresses would (wisely) totally ignore us and Maureen and I would just sit at a table and laugh the whole time. Whatever. It made no difference. Denny's was just a comfortable place to be.

I have an old high school classmate who lives near Joplin, so I think I'll ask her to check on Frank's and Denny's to see if they survived the storm. I sure hope they did. I'd hate to see some mighty fine memories blown away.