This opus features our Aunt Lou. Her real moniker was Lucille, but for some reason we always called her Aunt Lou. In fact, our sister Sue’s middle name is Lou. At least she HAS a middle name instead of an initial like Tim and I have. I’m sure our sister Sue is grateful that if she was named after Aunt Lou, that it was Lou and not her first name Lucille or her middle name Winifred! She graduated from Oberlin College as best as I can recall in 1922, and taught Physical Education at Miami University in Oxford. We always thought this was paradoxical since she was so short and somewhat frail. Perhaps in her old age she shrunk. They say people do that as they age. In my case only my brain seems to be shrinking as I age, which is no doubt pay back since when I was younger I had an inflated ego. This was largely due to my professors in college and grad school always saying how intelligent I was. That MAYBE was true THEN, but I think since my brain is shrinking, so is my I.Q. I suspect this because plants and boxes of rocks are starting to tease me (only when I forget my medication though). After her retirement when we were in high school, Aunt Lou lived upstairs in a separate area and left many interesting memories, as you will see. The main area of amusing anecdotes are in the way she “drove” her 1951 Plymouth. Since she was so short, she had trouble reaching the brake and clutch pedals, even with the seat all the way forward. She finally took her Plymouth to Heckelman’s and they installed large wooden blocks on each pedal so she could operate them correctly. Even after they were installed, whenever she pulled into our driveway we would hear the high revs of the engine as she fumbled with the clutch. Tim and I gave her the nickname of “Clutch.”  When she drove, she was so short that you “had to look twice” to see if anyone was driving! The top of her head barely cleared to top of the steering wheel and from a distance, it appeared that it was a remote controlled driverless vehicle! She also apparently had trouble seeing too, especially at night. One time she drove the “Handyman,” George M., whom she occasionally hired to do cleaning and odd jobs, home. It was just after twilight and she s-l-o-w-l-y pulled out of the driveway and immediately drove right into the ditch on the opposite side of the road. According to Aunt Lou’s explanation, she thought the white line at the edge of the opposite highway lane was the CENTERLINE! She also added that George panicked and kept yelling, “I gotta get out---I gotta get out…” From then on, he walked home, and continues walking only to this day some 40 plus years later! (I’m not sure there’s any connection, but the next time I see him at the local café I’m going to ask him)!  Another legendary incident was when she was on the way home from Berlin Hts. Mr. Kuebeler was walking along the road and apparently, she didn’t notice (or see) him. She passed so close to him that either the door handle or outside mirror (the fact was never definitely known) snagged his jacket and tore it right off him! Aunt Low continued on her way with the torn jacket hanging on the car, flapping in the wind! We never did find out her or anyone else’s reaction when they discovered the torn jacket still attached! As I look back, after her death in 1971, her heart was certainly in the right place even though her driving certainly wasn’t!