when I was first married, I fell in love with old things and
furniture and dreamed about the tales they could tell if they
could only talk. My first husbands family was only a few
generations removed from their Virginia roots and had bits and
pieces of furniture they had brought to Oklahoma.

When poking through the smoke house, I came upon an old and
not very well cared for, Eli Terry clock. I fell in love with
it and restored it. At the time, I wondered why it h ad been
consigned to oblivion and decay with it's painted glass smashed and the wood as dry as dust.

We took it back with us to O.S.U. and gave it pride of place
in our little apartment. My husband was an engineering student and I was working for the telephone company. We
both came home at lunch time to save money.

Going upstairs one day at noon, I heard the clock strike
thirteen times. It seemed very odd to me. Then later in
the day we heard that my husband's uncle had died. I mentioned the clock and my father in law said, "That's why
I won't have it in my house. It always strikes thirteen
when anyone in my family dies."

My husband got custody of the clock when we were divorced
and I don't know if it struck thirteen times when my brother
in law or his father died. All I know for certain is that
it struck thirteen times on the day Grover Wamsley died.