As you can see, I changed my profile picture on Facebook today.
This is me with Nate when he was about 9 weeks old. We’d flown to Florida and were at my father’s house. That means I was 27.
I’ve just been going through a bunch of old pictures and scanning them before they get any more faded than they are already.
My Facebook page is completely public. Anyone can see it and anyone can comment. As a result, people wander in from all over. And I heard today from a guy I haven’t seen in years.
His name is Cooper Francis. On Facebook, he calls himself “Henry Cooper” but that’s just his first two names without his last name.
He is a fundy Christian, a Trumper, and went to the Fundy Church From Hell where we went (hell, he probably still goes there), and that’s how I knew him. His wife, Pam, is a very sweet girl and was a good friend of mine. We left the church and wandered out of their lives, but before doing so, we had some experiences together.
I’ll let him talk now.
Cooper has no reason to say nice things about me. I left his church. I left his religion. We tangled over some family issues at one point.
What he’s talking about when he mentions “Dennis M’s makeshift gun range” is when he and some of the guys from the church came down to our neighbor’s house (nearly everyone in our neighborhood then went to the Fundy Church From Hell) and did some target practice.
I went over to another neighbor’s house where all the wives were congregated while the men shot, and threw a bit of a fit.
I was pissed off royally because I had been asked how many people I thought my house could sleep.
We lived on an unpaved, dead-end road, and those idiot guys got it in their idiotic heads that our road was ideally suited to serve as a place for everyone to retreat in the case of the zombie apocalypse or something, and so our house became a candidate for use by them. And they were busy doing target practice so they could defend the road from the police or something.
I had gone up to the range, very irritated with the whole thing, and the principal of the Christian school associated with the church was there. As I walked up, he made some stupid remark about how this was just target practice, but that they were likely going to shooting at moving targets “before long.” I tried to talk with them, but they weren’t listening to a mere woman.
That’s when I lost my temper and went down to where the wives were meeting and told them all that if anyone tried to use our house as some sort of refuge, I’d be the first person to call the police and they could all go home and tell their stupid husbands I said so.
All of them eventually grew up, and in fact, Earl bought our house and we got the hell out of there, so you can see that there is probably not much Cooper and I would agree about, except that his wife was always a very nice person.
Just for the record, so we can “document.”