By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)


As she sat and watched the clock,
Her heart felt like it needed a shock.
It said "5:15" on it's face.
This would be a race!
At 5:40 the ferry left the dock!


She launched herself from the bed,
Ran a quick comb through her head
Still in her lingerie,
Black lace today,
No time for the dog to be fed!


She ran full tilt through the streets,
Trailing her percale bedsheets!
She was quite a looker,
But she resembled a hooker!
The truckers yelled; "Over here, Sweets!"


She made the jump to the ferry in time.
And over the gate she did climb.
People stared at this quirk,
Chick on her way to work,
But was her profession a crime?


The captain was strolling the decks,
Thought she may just be selling sex.
He mumbled into her ear,
As he fondled her rear.
She shrieked,,"I work for TIMEX!"


(No..this is not a true story! I never worked for Timex.)









By Brier (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)


In my jewelry armoire I have much costume jewelry . Most of it was bought for some other lady, My Mom , an aunt, my dads mom.

I have a watch that was my grams but it has never run since I had it. I keep it to remember her by and wonder how many times she looked at it and then who gave it to her? The band has short pieces of leather to fasten it on the wrist the rest of the band is amber looks like plasticthe stem has a lovely tiny blue stone set in it. I am sure some one gave it to her as a lovely gift, as she kept it put away in a bow in her jewelry case.

Also in there is my father in laws railroad watch, he left it to my hubby, its lovely but not expensive except in memories.

The watch mystery comes from yet another watch, in a brown manilla envelope. We were in a funeral home to arrange fro my husbands step father who had died in a coal mine explosion. The lady from the funeral home called me aside and gave me the envelope. I asked what it contained, she didnt know she said an envelope came with each body they brought to the funeral home.

She offered me a quiet place to sit and open the envelope, so we sat down in her living room. I put my hand in the envelope and felt the pocket watch, cradleing it in the palm of my hand I held it carefully and brought it out to the light once more. As soon as I did the watch began to click, chills went through my body.The watch had stopped at the sinute of the explosion. and now in my hand it clicked once again. A strange feeling it gave me but I said nothing of the watch until we were back to their home. There when she sat down with her sons I gave Dot the watch and then she was sure he was gone. YOu could see where the flash fire burned the shoe lace off at the pocket he carried the watch in.

I learned a lot about my self and others that week. I learned about good neighbors , even though they were from another race , color or creed. We all knew some one who die din that explosion and we all wanted to do some thing , any thing.









By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)


Enter an old Victorian mansion. Every room is filled with clocks and watches. Not one shows the same time as another. Why is this? Scurrying is heard from the attic, eerie in the dark house without lights.

Backing...backing...backing towards the door. Oops! rough floorboard makes one fall.

Footsteps sound on the stairs. Heart beating erratically. Trying to arise, but finding ankle sprained. Scooting back towards the door on rear. Footsteps coming nearer. Start to scream but no sound comes from the mouth.

A candle lights the way for the person with the footsteps. Slide behind a chair to wait, hoping person won't see. The scurrying still sounding in attic.

Voice from person near..."Dang mice. Cat is useless," the voice says out loud. Candle in hand, person goes from clock to clock, resetting each one to the correct time. Then person with candle walks up the stairs and makes ready for sleep.

Scared...still hiding behind chair... hear the front door open.... Now what?

Two teenage boys quietly enter. Whispering between them, they walk from clock to clock, resetting clocks and watches to each being different time. Then they sneak back out the front door. "Ha! That will really irritate Uncle Al."

The boys laugh as they head down the sidewalk to home. Breathing easier, grab onto the chair. Pull self up to standing position. Hobble out the front door. This is the last time I will investigate a so-called haunted mansion.









By Harriett (Guest)


As a young child, the little railroad town we lived in had a jewelry store. My step Dad worked for the railroad as well as most of the men living in that small little town. They all had Elgin pocket watches.

When I would go in that shop, I noticed on the board hanging on there was a whole bunch of pocket watches. The jeweler would have to time them down to seconds all the time before he could give it back to the fireman, engineer, or brakeman. Since watches back then didn't not have the innerds they now have, they either gained or lost time, and the railroad men had to have the EXACT time.

That always facinated me cause he would regulate them each and every day for about a week. Then later on, the men would bring the watches back in again to be re-timed.









By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)


Sophie Mae got the letter on official stationary of the Hewitt, James, Johnson, Mikey & Bosrath lawyers' office. First class mail, three cents. Sophie Mae fondled the envelope before carefully opening it thumb under flap gingerly.

Dear Mrs. James K. Kinzy, nee Sophie Mae Tadwaddle. Dear Mrs. Kinzy, it said: Mrs. Tadwaddle's will has now been filed for probate, and there are certain items it will be necessary for you to personally collect.

Sophie read the list: quilt, doilies, (nothing much of anything), then - 1859 Sexton Clock. Tears came into Sophie's eyes. This was the clock that she and her ten brothers and sisters hated so badly. It had a chime like a cement breaker, and was the clock that heralded everything from time to wake up to time to go to bed! Why me, Sophie thought. But then, why not, Sophie was the oldest child and the other children would have received a varied sundry of old "stuff" for Mother and Father Tadwaddle had no money, only children!

Sophie slowly went into the house, her head bowed in renewed grief for her mother. That night she told her husband, Harold, that they must get gas for the Model T and get down to the old homestead Sunday so they could go to the Lawyer's office, Hewitt, James, Johnson, Mikey & Bosrath, you remember, and see Mr. Bosrath.

They arranged for their own five youngsters to stay next door, and packed a change of clothes. It would have been nice if they could have been there and reunioned with all the siblings, but that was not to be. In a few months though, the youngest child, Virginia, wrote a surprise postcard telling Sophie that she missed her family so much and could she come visiting. Yes, she could, and Virginia caught the next Greyhound bus into Sophie's town.

Now the old clock had been packed away for a long time, and Virginia was too young to have the black memories about it that Sophie had. After a nice visit together, Virginia brought up the real reason she came to visit.

Sophie, I think everyone got more of mother's things than I did, and I think you should share with me. (Sophie knew Virginia had received more than her share and being the baby was the spoilee.)

Sophie, with a sly little smile said that she had just the thing for Virginia. You may have the old antique clock, she told her. I don't have anyplace to put it, and it is quite valuable with that inverse painting scene and all.

The morning came when Virginia was to leave, and Sophie wound the clock leaving the key still in the open position, wrapped it in newspaper and lovingly cradled it into Virginia's arms. Enjoy, she said, and just before Virginia boarded the bus, Sophie pressed in the key.

A few miles out of Sophie's town, the bus loaded with dozing, reading, or sleeping passengers, there came a noise from Virginia's seat such as was never heard in her generation. The clock was ticktocking in Virginia's suitcase!

A few miles out, the cement-shattering chimes were ringing and jarring every passenger! Sophie had packed the clock in tape and newspapers beyond unwrapping to get to the key opening that Sophie had secreted. Every fifteen minutes, one chime; every 30 minutes three chimes, every hour a song chime like Big Ben and the number of hours chimes.

Took 8 hours to get from Sophie's to Virginia's and she left at 3:00 p.m. Picture Virginia's embarrassment; picture the anger on the faces of the frustrated passengers! A chime-banging suitcase!

But that is not the end of the story. Time passed, Virginia grew old, and told her own child about the clock, wrapped and stored away. Virginia's child was more savvy and up to date than Sophie had been - you know, being the youngest and all. She took unpacked the old clock, discovered the key, and tried its chime, really believing her mother must be mistaken.

When the old clock finally ran down in her garage, she tucked it under her arm and took it to the Antiques Road Show. Mrs. Tadwaddle's clock was appraised at $50,000.00. Next Sunday is the auction.









By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)


Being around the railroad station and Mr. White the stationmaster and telegrapher one became used to the exact time. For he like all railroaders back then would pull out his pocket watch, open it and give the exact time; then he would close it and put it back in his watch fob. Of course since he always wore a three piece suit he had a nice heavy gold chain to hold his watch.

The section gang was all colored except for Capín Huffman and any man who worked on the railroad longer than a few months had a railroad watch. They had to send them to the Norfolk and Western to have it checked and then if it passed, certified as a real railroad watch. That gold pocket watch was most menís prize possession and three or four sons killed their brothers over poppaís watch when he passed over.

And like any boy I became enamored with a railroad watch. So here I was a young Private in the USMC stationed in Jacksonville and one Saturday we went into town and my buddy went into a pawn shop. I started looking around and found an old gold pocket watch. It was three fifty or four fifty which was a lot of money for me since I got paid nine dollars twice a month. Anyhow I decided to forgo my drinking that Saturday night and bought that watch. It was my pride and joy as I hitch hiked back to the base and got out my Blitz cloth.

Now back then I had great eyesight and could tell you if a gnatís butt was puckered at fifty paces. I found a date, 1854 and some other little writing. Turns out each time it was pawned, the pawnbroker who in those days was usually a watch repairman and jeweler would inscribe something when they took it in.

The watch was not carried but kept as my prize possession and somewhere between when I bought it and arrived in Korea it got bustalated. I had Mr. Homm, a labor honcho who spoke English to get it fixed. He did but it ran erratic, so my pride pocket watch was stashed in one of those Korean made footlockers that everybody in Korea just about bought.

Years passed and when I worked went to work for the state the head the Department of Environmental Quality Mr. Sundin I learned was a watch repairer. I took it to him and he kept it for three or four months and repaired it. It turned out my old Gold pocket watch was only a Seven jewel Elgin but it was made around 1850. I took it home and put it back in my old Korean footlocker where it still is today.

But often I wonder if I should give it to one of my sonís and tell them it belonged to Grandpa; making sure not to say whose Grandpa and where? Every so often I take my pocket watch out, wind it and listen to it go tick tock then put it back, wondering what the boys will think when after I pass on they find it.








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