1 I was leaving the office when the phone rang.
2 "John It’s Mike," he said. "Mike Clarke."
3 There was something broken in the sound of his voice.
4 Clarke is a Chicago guy from the Northwest Side who moved his family to a McHenry County farm because he loved the countryside. He’s the SBC worker and turkey farmer I’ve written about.
5 This spring, he was charged with felonies and branded a vigilante in the local papers there. His 19-year-old son also was charged. Clarke’s family was shamed. They were the subject of common talk in a small country town.
6 And what exactly was his crime
7 Protecting his family and his neighbor—a frightened elderly woman—from a hooded stranger late at night.
8 Clarke called 911, but witnesses say it took police almost an hour to get there. The stranger repeatedly refused to identify himself as he walked toward the Clarke home. So Clarke ta
A. had some physical contact with the stranger
B. frightened an elderly lady
C. made a call to police
D. asked the stranger about his identity
1 I was leaving the office when the phone rang.
2 "John It’s Mike," he said. "Mike Clarke."
3 There was something broken in the sound of his voice.
4 Clarke is a Chicago guy from the Northwest Side who moved his family to a McHenry County farm because he loved the countryside. He’s the SBC worker and turkey farmer I’ve written about.
5 This spring, he was charged with felonies and branded a vigilante in the local papers there. His 19-year-old son also was charged. Clarke’s family was shamed. They were the subject of common talk in a small country town.
6 And what exactly was his crime
7 Protecting his family and his neighbor—a frightened elderly woman—from a hooded stranger late at night.
8 Clarke called 911, but witnesses say it took police almost an hour to get there. The stranger repeatedly refused to identify himself as he walked toward the Clarke home. So Clarke ta
A. ironic
B. appreciative
C. humorous
D. thankful
I like to look into the mirror. I remember when I was a little girl, I often stood on my toes, trying to find my face in the mirror of the dressing table which was nearly as high as I was. Now I still like to look into the mirror. Only now, the dressing table is too low for me. As I bend down, I see the face of a young woman, glowing with maturity, confident in her future and fascinated with her own reflection.
The fact that I like to look into the mirror has to do with my granny with whom I spent most of my childhood. I remember clearly that one night I heard her murmuring, "Women can’t be seen. Women can’t be seen." I was so confused as to look into the mirror the next morning to check if I could indeed see myself. Only now as a young woman myself, can I understand that if was not physical visibility that granny had on her mind.
Granny spent all her life taking care of the family, day in and day out. She cooked for her husband and 10 childr
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