Oh, I remember, I remember the town where I was born.
Sauerkraut Day was a favorite time. The merchants pulled out all their best. Bright tents cheered us all and cotton candy, oh my, oh my. The beer was always cold.
Beloved aunts lined up their chairs to visit all over town, lace hankies lined their laps and they hugged if you drew near. And uncles, oh, the uncles, with enough quarters to fill your shoes. The music was loud and the laughter was, too.
Sauerkraut simmered in a giant black vat placed right in the middle of town.
You may not believe me, but I remember it well – you could smell that sweet smell on the west end of town, in the swing on my grandmother’s porch!
Mayor Plattenburg spoke up on a quickly rigged stage. I remember one speech well: “I’m not the first mayor of Lisbon and I won’t be the last, but I will always be the best!”
Yes I remember, I remember. Was it only yesterday?
Jane Kelso
P.S. The dictionary tells us sauerkraut is “chopped cabbage fermented in a brine of its own juice with salt” Amen.