“I have one mud story. I’m not going to tell anymore, but my mother for Thanksgiving, everything was rationed, so she learned that you could get turkeys in Knoxville. So, she took a bus to Knoxville with a couple of friends. They went some place to get a turkey. The only turkey was a giant turkey and the only bus stop was at the bottom of a steep hill covered in mud. So my mother used to a tell a story and all the neighbors tell the story of the day my mother took this giant turkey and dragged it up this hill. So when we got the turkey it was completely encased in mud, but somehow we cleaned it up and we ate it. That was our mud story. It was my mother and the turkey.”
Joan Ellen Zucker