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August 28, 2017
My sister said my father gave her very specific instructions for his burial. He was to have the Masonic rites and the military honors. All he ever told me was that he wanted to be thrown over the fence to the cemetery next door. That was where he was buried, an eyeshot from the house, perhaps seventy-five yards. I still have visions of him lying on the other side of the fence in his carpenter’s jeans and work shirt, arms and legs splayed at odd angles, slowly decomposing while the townspeople went about their lives and the locusts buzzed overhead