Recently we came across this account of a visit with Member of Congress Louise Slaughter:
At 82, she has beautiful skin and the spry and spunk of those 30 years her junior; walking towards the conference room, I had to practically run to keep up with her.Then this:
--Kellene Paul, Democrat and Chronicle Editorial Blog, 8/10/2012
For crying out loud already get off Louise Slaughter’s age! I just saw her at the Democrat’s [sic] Annual Family Picnic. This phenomenal woman has the energy of a teenager and the mental clarity of a 35 year old.
--Kellene Paul, Democrat and Chronicle Editorial Blog, 8/28/2012
Now, today, Mustard Street has received from a first-time correspondent the following account:
"Your wallet. Now." The mugger pushed me up against the wall, knife at my throat. Worse than physical assault was terror of the unknown: what might he do?We present the narrative as received. Internal evidence suggests this communication could be the work of a writer at a different venue, perhaps seeking, for so extraordinary a story, a platform for publication with broader audience and greater credibility. "Lea Keenpull" has about it the sound of a nom de plume, perhaps an anagram. Nevertheless, we respect Ms. Keenpull's privacy and hope that she may provide additional work for consideration by our readers.
Strong men cowered at the alley's entrance, yards away. "We can't help her now." "No," stammered the other. "We have our own safety to think of."
Senses dimming with despair, resigned, my focus narrowed to the rhythmic thrumming of an air conditioner in a window floors above: ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa.
And then, a rustling. A gleam of light. Brisk movement. As if in one mighty stride, before me bounded Representative Louise Slaughter. With that faint, fleeting smile playing about her lips, for a moment she faced my assailant, erect and motionless, biceps rippling. With one nimble judo chop to the solar plexus she floored the attacker, his face contorted in a rictus of agony.
"EF'N YEW TRAH INNYTHANG WITH THIS WOMAN AGAYIN AH'LL SLAHCE YEW INTO HAWG BACON!," she bellowed at the twitching specimen of human tissue that moments before had been a fit and toned young man.
I hadn't even a moment to express my thanks. Casting the curbside cowards a look of acerbic contempt, the supple octogenarian vaulted from the alley -- and into the record book of heroes.
Shaking, I returned to the office at Broad and Exchange to record this remarkable occurrence.
-- Lea Keenpull