Friday, July 6, 2007

Katie, 10/27/76 - 6/23/07


Here is the poem that I read at Katie's visitation on 7/2/07:

Central Illinois

we flew into Milwaukee, rented a car, and drove southwest toward Moline, where my friend Dave was getting married. Coming down I-94, we missed the interchange at Tomah and ended up following a series of back roads that paralleled soybean and corn fields. Two teenagers in a Subaru told us that any left would take us to the highway. An hour later, we were still sure that we would find the exit. Embankments, then gas stations, then towns: Ithaca, Lewiston, Rock Island, Ipava, Itasca, Ottawa. When the Chicago radio stations got fuzzy, I cycled through the CDs. Melissa called on the cell phone to say that she and Ross were stuck in Joliet, the interstate was that bad. Would we tell Dave that they would try to make the rehearsal? We had no idea how much farther to Moline. Every time Katie restarted A Man Ain't Made of Stone, I remembered more of the lyrics. While Dave and Meghan practiced their vows, we sat in the car singing, "Digging Up Bones" and "Forever and Ever, Amen," finally stopping for sandwiches and beer at the Shake Rain Bar and Grill outside Peru. It's been called Peru for as long as I can remember, was all that the bartender would say. The Bud tap spit huge heads but the Bud Light poured fine. For a modest tip, The Karaoke Kid sang all the Randy Travis he knew.

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