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PART TWO --- THE OLSENS
It was late in the day, August Twenty-first, eighteen fifty-six, and a perfect evening for fishing. A nice cool breeze barely ruffled the leaves on the trees providing shade for a man sitting beneath them in a strange looking chair; ostensibly, trying to catch his supper.
Oliver Olsen, once a sailor, now an adventurer; a banker; a farmer; a trader of livestock; a buyer of land; a builder; an entrepreneur extraordinaire; a man who wore many hats; was a man lost in retrospect. He found this happening more often lately, and if someone asked him why, would most likely answer, â Iâ m trying to figure out how it all came about.â
Suddenly, he was aware someone was jerking on his arm. He looked around and saw it was his two year old grandson, David Junior. His mother, Penny, was standing right behind the boy. â Grandpa,â Penny said. â I donâ t see any fish; youâ ve been sleeping again, havenâ t you?â
â I suppose you could say that,â he replied, â either that, or someoneâ s been standing beside me telling that same old story again. It donâ t get any better with the telling. Iâ d sure like to hear something from David, wouldnâ t you? Itâ s been three months since we heard from him and the boys.â