LIVING IN A GLASS HOUSE...

LIVING IN A GLASS HOUSE...

January 18, 2012... BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES

I was looking in my memories when one stood out to me about a house I used to walk by. I was a very young woman and I lived in town and I didn't drive at the time. I walked everywhere.

There was a house that I always walked by that fascinated me. It was located in a very sharp curve. I remember when I was very little and in grade school, a boy named Jack Watson and his whole family died in that curve. I was too young to know what happened. I just remembered that was the curve.

In school, I would look at the desk behind me knowing 'Jack got killed' but, I didn't know what it meant. I did know Jack wasn't sitting in the desk behind me like he always did. As I grew up to know what 'killed' meant, I felt sadness for Jack Watson.

The house in the curve was very pretty. It was built of brick and there was a room on the end of it, that drew my attention every time. The whole room was built of ..glass.

I would walk in the evenings when it was getting dark and I would notice the man of the house would sit in his recliner to read ..he'd have his lamp that was overhead, on to shine over him and his book.

I remember one Christmas I was walking and I passed by there and it looked so warm and cosy. I wished so much to have a nice room like that to draw in. I could see the man sitting in the same chair and I'm sure it was a different book, or paper he was reading. :)))

It's just strange how all these years no matter how long I'd been away, I would come back to visit family... I'd always pass by that house... that same man would still be sitting there in the evenings, reading.

He has been on display all these years, and he'd stayed safe... in his glass room. I think he must have lived a good life to stay safe, and not mind being in the public eye at all times. He lives in town.

I always remembered as times became more dangerous in this town, someone being shot at all the time, home invasions, and such.... I worried about that man. I knew of him and his wife... she may have been sitting in that glass room but, if she was... she was sitting in the dark.

Through the years I have been amazed at seeing him still sitting out in his glass room. I know I always said prayers for his safety. He still does it... I still say a prayer for him to be safe. I know there must be a guardian angel close by.

I don't think I'd have the nerve to live my evenings in a glass room, after dark. I'm afraid of the dark.