Sabrina Throws a Party
It’s unusual for me to repost after posting a new blog, but these are strange times. This post covers a night rich in memory for me about a friend who may be on his deathbed in Minneapolis. I was sorry to hear about this, but happy to (re)share this post. Mark and his family should know I wanted to use the incident (of the case of Miller beer in trunk) in an as-yet unpublished novel (a pivotal scene), so I’ll have to dig through boxes to find that and report back later. Ah, life. Go hug someone you love. Or call them. God bless you, Mark and family.
Awaking late the morning of Jan. 1, 1978, head still buzzing from the night out with Stephanie in the backseat of Harvey’s ’68 Mustang, I had one pressing chore: Pack for the Family Project’s ski trip to Telemark Resort in Wisconsin.
Dad had rented a condo in the town of Cable, on Lake Owen, and we were leaving on New Year’s Day. We’d be gone for nearly a week. I hastily called Steph, the diary reports, “before we left around 7:00 or so. I told her I’d be thinking about her, she said she’d miss me too.” I added, “But when I get back, there will be Sabrina’s party for us to go to.”
The drive was uneventful. But when we reached the place near midnight, it wasn’t yet ready for us. Dad angrily put us up at a little place called “The Alpine Motel,” where we…
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Completely in the Dark 