A Requime from Molly
http://texasobserver.org/
And for me, it’s leaving time.
I have a grandly dramatic vision of myself stalking through the canyons
of the Big Apple in the rain and cold, dreaming about driving with the
soft night air of East Texas rushing on my face while Willie Nelson
sings softly on the radio, or about blasting through the Panhandle under
a fierce sun and pale blue sky….I’ll remember, I’ll remember…sunsets,
rivers, hills, plains, the Gulf, woods, a thousand beers in a thousand
joints, and sunshine and laughter. And people. Mostly I’ll remember people.
There is one thing, an important thing, I have to tell you before I go.
What I’m going to tell you is more than a fact. It is a Truth. I have
spent six years checking it out, and I know it to be true. The people
who subscribe to The Texas Observer are good people. In fact, you’re the
best people in this state. I don’t care if you think that’s pretentious
or sentimental—it’s just true.
If I got to naming you, I would never stop, so I won’t. But please
believe me that all of you whom I know and many of you whom I know only
by letter are in my mind as I write this—even if I do forget your names
half the time. Always excepting, of course, the turkey who sends me hate
mail after my annual gun-control editorial. Turkey, turkey, turkey.
I wanted to call this “The Long Goodbye” but Kaye won’t let me. She
wanted to call it “Ivins Indulges in Horrible Fit of Sentimentality.”
I love you. Good-bye my friends.
/The closing paragraphs of Molly’s goodbye column to Texas Observer
readers published June 18, 1976, as she left to join The New York Times./
Gawd Bless you gal ... you were one of those strong Texas women we love so much.
And for me, it’s leaving time.
I have a grandly dramatic vision of myself stalking through the canyons
of the Big Apple in the rain and cold, dreaming about driving with the
soft night air of East Texas rushing on my face while Willie Nelson
sings softly on the radio, or about blasting through the Panhandle under
a fierce sun and pale blue sky….I’ll remember, I’ll remember…sunsets,
rivers, hills, plains, the Gulf, woods, a thousand beers in a thousand
joints, and sunshine and laughter. And people. Mostly I’ll remember people.
There is one thing, an important thing, I have to tell you before I go.
What I’m going to tell you is more than a fact. It is a Truth. I have
spent six years checking it out, and I know it to be true. The people
who subscribe to The Texas Observer are good people. In fact, you’re the
best people in this state. I don’t care if you think that’s pretentious
or sentimental—it’s just true.
If I got to naming you, I would never stop, so I won’t. But please
believe me that all of you whom I know and many of you whom I know only
by letter are in my mind as I write this—even if I do forget your names
half the time. Always excepting, of course, the turkey who sends me hate
mail after my annual gun-control editorial. Turkey, turkey, turkey.
I wanted to call this “The Long Goodbye” but Kaye won’t let me. She
wanted to call it “Ivins Indulges in Horrible Fit of Sentimentality.”
I love you. Good-bye my friends.
/The closing paragraphs of Molly’s goodbye column to Texas Observer
readers published June 18, 1976, as she left to join The New York Times./
Gawd Bless you gal ... you were one of those strong Texas women we love so much.
2 Comments:
She was a vicious, hateful person. Good riddance.
Anon 1:48....
Thank you for being the fine Christin soul that I know you are ...
So much for dead warriors ,,, eh?
Just so long as it's not you.
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