Down on the Farm: Country funeral
The Saturday before Father's Day, Dad and I shared pall bearer duties for the funeral of Bernice, one of the last of the old neighbors. She died at age 95.
Bernice spent most of her life in a farmhouse a mile north of our farm. It had no electricity. She cared for her parents until they passed away in the 1950s. Then she lived alone, keeping an immaculate yard and making her famous crescent rolls loaded with bacon fat. Her rolls were as sinful as Bernice was saintly.
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