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Let Patsy R.I.P.

Let Patsy R.I.P. Mark Beaver It was GPS that brought me to this tiny railroad town in northeast Alabama, and, okay, maybe my predilection for anything Southern gothic too. But once I made it to Stevenson, I didn’t need the satellites to fi gure which house belonged to James Davis. Th e signs were everywhere— literal ones, I mean—including the hand-painted one that has replaced the train depot as the most recognizable landmark in all of Stevenson. It stands at the edge of James’ front yard, alongside the road that runs through here to Bridgeport. LET PATSY REST IN PEACE, it reads. Th ere’s an assortment of smaller signs, too, posted on the façade of his two-story cabin: I HAVE SEARCHED FOR JUSTICE FOR 8 YEARS I HAVE NOT FOUND IT YET and ILLEGAL COURT ORDER BURIAL PLOT DESECRATION HERE, among others. Th en of course, right next to the front porch, lies the grave where James buried his wife, whom he aff ectionately calls Mama. It’s marked by a headstone, wide as a marriage bed and already carved with both their names, because he plans to be put to rest here too. Silk fl owers sit atop the monument. More sprout http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png River Teeth: A Journal of Nonfiction Narrative Ashland University

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Publisher
Ashland University
Copyright
Copyright © Ashland University
ISSN
1548-3339

Abstract

Mark Beaver It was GPS that brought me to this tiny railroad town in northeast Alabama, and, okay, maybe my predilection for anything Southern gothic too. But once I made it to Stevenson, I didn’t need the satellites to fi gure which house belonged to James Davis. Th e signs were everywhere— literal ones, I mean—including the hand-painted one that has replaced the train depot as the most recognizable landmark in all of Stevenson. It stands at the edge of James’ front yard, alongside the road that runs through here to Bridgeport. LET PATSY REST IN PEACE, it reads. Th ere’s an assortment of smaller signs, too, posted on the façade of his two-story cabin: I HAVE SEARCHED FOR JUSTICE FOR 8 YEARS I HAVE NOT FOUND IT YET and ILLEGAL COURT ORDER BURIAL PLOT DESECRATION HERE, among others. Th en of course, right next to the front porch, lies the grave where James buried his wife, whom he aff ectionately calls Mama. It’s marked by a headstone, wide as a marriage bed and already carved with both their names, because he plans to be put to rest here too. Silk fl owers sit atop the monument. More sprout

Journal

River Teeth: A Journal of Nonfiction NarrativeAshland University

Published: May 23, 2018

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