I saw a scrawny small dog tethered to a wooden post of a decaying Lewis and Clark historical display. The Columbia River rolled choppy blue and west a few feet behind it. In the channel, a variegated freighter headed toward Astoria and beyond. Its name: a rather pedestrian American Pacific<\/i>. Its cargo: nothing on deck, not even containers bearing products no one really needs.<\/p>\n
A light rain fell. All the better for my afternoon stroll along the Warrenton trail to my clear my overcast head.<\/p>\n
The dog noticed me and looked over. I approached it and noticed its owner sitting on a bench of the display of a large book, an 800-pager at least. I couldn’t discern the title but it was a thick red font in the style of Soviet propaganda art.<\/p>\n
I was intrigued. It’s rare to see people reading in the rain, much less with a dog, much less along a mighty river surrounded by molding plaques recounting the myths of two overrated historical figures.<\/p>\n
She was elderly and wearing a head scarf reminiscent of the Russian peasant women in the documentary films building tank traps and cooking up borscht near dead bodies to save Stalingrad from the Panzers.<\/p>\n
Beside her rested an elderly three-wheeled bicycle, blue, with a little trailer all decked out cozy for the dog.<\/p>\n
I took my walk down the river and marveled at the cormorants and gulls perched on the rotting piers. Oh, to join them!<\/p>\n
A half an hour later, I saw the woman bicycling toward me on the paved trail.<\/p>\n
Here was my chance. I had to know the title of the book.<\/p>\n
I angled toward her in such a way that she would have to slow down or come to a complete halt.<\/p>\n
Rude.<\/p>\n
She pedaled up, huffing and puffing, and the dog was sacked out in the trailer.<\/p>\n
I gave ground. We came together and the bicycle barely moved forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat were you reading?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cStalin,\u201d she growled in a thick Russian accent.<\/p>\n
She passed me.<\/p>\n
I caught a glimpse of the book.<\/p>\n
Sure enough, the red read STALIN<\/i>.<\/p>\n
I had read this biography years ago.<\/p>\n
And here I was meeting a direct descendant from its pages.<\/p>\n
(If you found this post enjoyable, thought provoking or enlightening, please consider supporting a writer at work by making a financial contribution to this blog or by purchasing an NSP book.) <\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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