In January of 1978, I received my pin commemorating five years of employment at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. As I gratefully took the pin, I was so glad that I did not take my father’s advice on that day Hazel Bowen called. Dad perpetually saw the glass half empty. He warned me at the time… Read More And Justice for All
So, I never admitted that I impersonated that gentleman’s long lost love. When I heard talk about the crazy guy who kept calling and insisting to talk to Hazel, I just feigned shock and amusement. I was quite content as a member of the Star-Telegram family. I had a good car, more than one dress,… Read More The Colonial Bike Ride
The best part of having a good job was freedom from poverty. When I was slinging hash at the café, I was thankful while counting pennies to pay rent and walking to work to save gas; but it made me want to break into a yodel realizing I could now put two dozen eggs in… Read More Callers Beware
I was sound asleep when the call came, “This is Hazel Bowen with the Fort Worth Star-Telegram Personnel Department…” I thought I was dreaming after working 6 pm to 2 am the night before, what I called the “donuts for drunks” shift. I sat up in the dark room to clear my head. “Hello” I… Read More Thank God for Hazel
The day after high-school graduation, I reported to work at 11 a.m. but it felt different. I had definitely outgrown the produce orders and the Chicken Brothers. I needed a plan. I had some scholarship money to North Texas State University and a job offer from the Dairy Queen in Denton. The owners of a… Read More Managing the Hunt
It is not an accident that my maiden name is Story. From an early age, I earned the right to that name through my love of telling stories, both real and imagined. My stories are a combination of maudlin sappiness and irreverent hilarity and more than one have told me that tears rolled down their… Read More Welcome To My Stories
The summer of 1969 found me still working at the Dairy Queen and proud that my duties had expanded to include not just the drive-up window but calling in the produce order and running the register at the counter during the rush. Burgers were 45¢, fries were 25¢ and a burger basket could be had… Read More Lettuce, Bananas, and Convertibles
In July of 1968, after my sophomore year in high school, my dad drove me and sat in the car while I talked to Mickey, the stout, perpetually smiling, quick stepping manager of the Dairy Queen on Denton Hwy. Mickey saw something in my chubby, frizzy haired, awkward self and gave me my first job.… Read More My First Job