Caussey's Corner

Billy, the Boy Who Loved Pigeons: A Tragic Texas Tale

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Before Christmas, JoAnn and I took our annual pilgrimage to Galveston. We ate lunch at a place called Black Pearl Restaurant near the Strand. We had a table next to the large window that looked over a sidewalk and street. The sidewalk was occupied by seven pairs of strutting, cooing pressing, loving pigeons. I told her all about pigeons. She was so impressed she asked where I learned so much. I told her about Billy.

Even though it had been over 30 years, JoAnn was the only person I had told it to. Now you. I remember as though it was yesterday. Maybe I can forgive myself someday. The memories are freshened when I see pigeons in parks, on buildings or airborne. How long will I remember it? As long as pigeons fly and little boys dream.

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