We were up in Maine once visiting our friend, Paul. He was living and working on an old horse farm in a building that was converted into an art studio. He had been commissioned to make a sculpture of Beethoven for a New England College, and he made an extra head which he later turned into Edgar Allan Poe for a friend. Poe was languishing there in the barn yard when we arrived because the friend in Richmond didn't have a place for him. We admired him, and the next time Paul came for a visit- lo and behold- Poe came with him and has lived in the front yard ever since collecting admirers.
(Though I 'm not exactly Poe's biggest fan I recently read a story of his that I hadn't read before, and I have to say when the narrator gouged his cat's eye out, I was completely creeped out- some one hundred fifty years later. I think from now on I might stick to "Annabell Lee.")
Anyway today a neighborhood artist dropped by. His wife needed to walk after a recent surgery so they were exploring new streets. He was so delighted to find Poe that he came knocking at my door, and made a crack about "The Raven". We got to talking, and I found out he went to Wilson High School in the 1940s. I introduced him to my daughter who goes there now. A few minutes later, the two of them broke out singing the Wilson fight song. (That's when his wife made him leave.)
Then he came back later and offered to loan my daughter a book on drawing. It was just great.
So thank you, Paul. Having Poe here has been a hoot. Not too mention, we're always ready for Halloween. (Did I mention Annabell Lee lives just down the street? But that's another story.)