Susan Davis

The statements detail the oversight panel’s work and the revenues and expenditures for the voter-approved city measures.

When my husband, Ben, was still working, he called me during his ten-minute breaks. He always expected me to be brimming with news.

When this story is printed, Ben and I will be about a week shy of celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary. For us, it hasn't seemed liked we've been married for half a century. In fact, our life together as husband and wife has gone by way too fast. Neither of us would change a thing. We both would marry the other one in a heartbeat.

‘Never let someone else write your story for you,' one says in her speech as class looks ahead to lives' next chapter

I loved my freshman year of college at NJC. I was taking secretarial science classes and excelled in them.

Years ago, as I was getting ready for work, I heard the sound of spraying water. I glanced out our open bathroom window and saw my husband, Ben, with the hose in his hand. “What are you doing?” I asked.

Just before Ben and I were married, we borrowed his dad's pickup. We were in the process of moving his things to the house we had recently bought in Merino. We knew it was going to be a long day because we couldn't haul everything in one trip. We would have to make several trips.

When I was a farm girl in the 1950s and 60s, it was commonplace for many families to take baths only on Saturday nights. The combination of it being Saturday night and the Lawrence Welk Show coming on the air meant it was time for my weekly bath. I looked forward to getting squeaky clean.

Recently, an elderly neighbor came over to our place to report that his English shepherd was missing. He thought his dog had probably been scared away from home. He described his pet to Ben and me and requested that if we saw it to give him a call. He gave us his phone number.

When Ben had an eye appointment, I accompanied him there. The nurse who took pictures of his eyes was wearing jeans. I noticed a big stain on them and asked, “What did you spill on your jeans?”