STORYSTAR
Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: General Interest
- Published: 02/16/2026
Remembering
Born 1929, M, from Roseville/CA, United States
2026Remembering (Approx. 600 wds.)
Remembering
It was a Sunday night, getting late. Paul Lerner was where he now spent most of his time, in his living room chair. He was trying to remember his time in London when he was a young soldier on leave from the Army. Remembering wasn’t easy. It had been over seventy years ago, during the Korean War, when he’d been drafted and sent, not to Korea, but to Germany. Now he was, as he thought of himself, an old codger with a bum knee hobbling around an empty house. His wife had passed away three years ago.
After he’d retired Lerner had somehow become a freelance writer. He’d recently put two books on Amazon. One he called Potpourri VIII. It was a collection of his recent writings, short stories, Observations, the column he still wrote for a senior paper, and a few other things. It was his eigth such collection. The other book he’d titled The View From 95, a Memoir. With these two projects done he’d felt a little lost and had to come up with a new project. What everyone in his grief support group agreed upon was that you had to occupy yourself as much as possible.
Lerner thought he might write some pieces about his early life, which he’d call “Looking Back.” He was trying to remember his time in London because he’d considered that his travels in Europe might be a good subject to begin with. That is, if he could remember enough about them after all this time.
Of course he remembered his first trip to London, hitching a ride on MATS (Military Air Transport Service), not directly to London but to a French port city from which he’d taken a ferry to England and then, he assumed, a train or bus to London. He remembered this because on the ferry he’d met a young American girl also going to London and he remembered her distinctive name, Lou Helen Englebrechten (Fallen Angel). In a movie-like meeting he’d then been looking into a book store window in London and seen the reflection of a young girl. It was Lou Helen Engelbrechten. He’d spent a lot of time with Lou Helen that first visit in London. And she had introduced him to a pretty English girl, Joan White, he’d been quite taken with and had seen her on two subsequent leaves to London.
So, what had he seen and done in London? He had been to the Tower of London because he remembered the unmoving Beefeaters, the big ravens, the chopping block on which Anne Bolan lost her head and the crown jewels. He’d also been to a famous book store, either Foyles or Hatchers, where he’d bought a lot of inexpensive Penguin pocket books, not then available in the US, he thought Maybe it was in that bookstore window he’d been looking when he’d seen the reflection of Lou Helen.
He knew he’d also been to a lot of plays. He’d been a big theater fan and had gone to as many plays in New York as he could, sitting in the balcony as he couldn’t afford the steep prices in the orchestra. In London he could get incredibly cheap seats in the afternoon and see the play, sitting in the orchestra, that night. He’d taken Lou Helen and Joan White to many plays, he remembered.
By this time, Lerner was tired and sleepy. He hoisted himself out of his chair and grasped the nearby walker, which he used more and more often now. Lou Helen Englebrechten and Joan White, two names that had remained lodged in his memory. His eyes began to tear. What was he crying for? His lost youth? Or maybe the way he was now? Maybe it was the same thing. Since his wife’s passing, he cried easily. He went into his bedroom and prepared to go to sleep.
###
Remembering
It was a Sunday night, getting late. Paul Lerner was where he now spent most of his time, in his living room chair. He was trying to remember his time in London when he was a young soldier on leave from the Army. Remembering wasn’t easy. It had been over seventy years ago, during the Korean War, when he’d been drafted and sent, not to Korea, but to Germany. Now he was, as he thought of himself, an old codger with a bum knee hobbling around an empty house. His wife had passed away three years ago.
After he’d retired Lerner had somehow become a freelance writer. He’d recently put two books on Amazon. One he called Potpourri VIII. It was a collection of his recent writings, short stories, Observations, the column he still wrote for a senior paper, and a few other things. It was his eigth such collection. The other book he’d titled The View From 95, a Memoir. With these two projects done he’d felt a little lost and had to come up with a new project. What everyone in his grief support group agreed upon was that you had to occupy yourself as much as possible.
Lerner thought he might write some pieces about his early life, which he’d call “Looking Back.” He was trying to remember his time in London because he’d considered that his travels in Europe might be a good subject to begin with. That is, if he could remember enough about them after all this time.
Of course he remembered his first trip to London, hitching a ride on MATS (Military Air Transport Service), not directly to London but to a French port city from which he’d taken a ferry to England and then, he assumed, a train or bus to London. He remembered this because on the ferry he’d met a young American girl also going to London and he remembered her distinctive name, Lou Helen Englebrechten (Fallen Angel). In a movie-like meeting he’d then been looking into a book store window in London and seen the reflection of a young girl. It was Lou Helen Engelbrechten. He’d spent a lot of time with Lou Helen that first visit in London. And she had introduced him to a pretty English girl, Joan White, he’d been quite taken with and had seen her on two subsequent leaves to London.
So, what had he seen and done in London? He had been to the Tower of London because he remembered the unmoving Beefeaters, the big ravens, the chopping block on which Anne Bolan lost her head and the crown jewels. He’d also been to a famous book store, either Foyles or Hatchers, where he’d bought a lot of inexpensive Penguin pocket books, not then available in the US, he thought Maybe it was in that bookstore window he’d been looking when he’d seen the reflection of Lou Helen.
He knew he’d also been to a lot of plays. He’d been a big theater fan and had gone to as many plays in New York as he could, sitting in the balcony as he couldn’t afford the steep prices in the orchestra. In London he could get incredibly cheap seats in the afternoon and see the play, sitting in the orchestra, that night. He’d taken Lou Helen and Joan White to many plays, he remembered.
By this time, Lerner was tired and sleepy. He hoisted himself out of his chair and grasped the nearby walker, which he used more and more often now. Lou Helen Englebrechten and Joan White, two names that had remained lodged in his memory. His eyes began to tear. What was he crying for? His lost youth? Or maybe the way he was now? Maybe it was the same thing. Since his wife’s passing, he cried easily. He went into his bedroom and prepared to go to sleep.
###
.jpg)
.png)
COMMENTS (2)