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Joseph Orost: My favorite hat (Enron)

On my way to becoming an Engineer, I was influenced by two of my Professors. They did not teach science or anything like that, but English Composition. They left me with an everlasting desire to write.

Throughout my life, I wrote many short stories. Some have been published and others have not. Many have been returned and rejected. But most of them have been lost. My wife, Larraine, kept a folder of some of my writings and most of the ones shown here come from that folder. Her folder gave me the idea that the internet would be a good place to gather up those that are still extant and organize them so that I could reread them and others, if they so desire, may also.

As first I wrote about how I was tortured while attending grammar school both in West Virginia and in Pennsylvania. I was taught manners one way in West Virginia and another in Pennsylvania. The story is called Crime and Punishment.

Right about this time I had met my first true love, Betty Lou Schlemm, an artist. She was the subject of many stories about the depth of my feeling towards her. Alas those stories are lost.

I wrote quite a few stories about my daughter, Jeannie. Thinking back, I must say that she was very active and sometimes a Holy Terror. She provided me with fertile grounds to exploit my writing. And to her I shall be forever grateful. The first is called Homer. It's about a duck she raised with loving care to maturity. I must have written about five or six more but alas they have been lost.

Having to work my way through college and suffering the loss of sleep and nourishment, I tried to show that there were others who were less fortunate than I. The story is in why me.

Listening to the many stories that my friends from the various telephone companies that I had contact with, it was natural that I should write about what the communication industry was a long time ago when there was no internet, no dial telephones and all the calls were handled by young ladies glued to a switchboard. Try the one called lineman.

Having lived in Vermont for many years, I was intrigued by a person by the name of Chad whom I had accidentally met at a gas station. Chad lived somewhere in the hills near Montgomery. He first came to Vermont to escape the draft. A little of his story is in Chad.

I took a trip to Hungary and the Ukraine and also to Switzerland. On the train, on the way to the Ukraine, I met an enthusiastic law student with a bubbly personality who spoke perfect English and who translated for us in order to converse with the people on the train. She was a Godsend. To Anita Dome, I am especially grateful. I enjoyed both trips although I don't think I was very kind in my evaluations.

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