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By CHARLIE SUPAK
Where has the music gone? What happened to the polkas and waltzes? Why isn’t there any hustle and bustle around the church grounds? All remains quiet and still. I don’t hear the auctioneer in the distance. No one is dancing, playing games, or just sitting around enjoying the day.
What I miss most is the aroma in the air of frying chicken. Somewhere a gathering of men should be intensely manning…
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