The Mystery of Wamelep

At the time of the 1879 Census, my Great-Great Grandmother, Lucia Dewitt was 11 years old and living near Charlotte, Michigan with her family.  One member of whom, according to the census taker, was a two month old boy named Wamelep Dewitt.

No one else in the family has any really unusual names like, um, Wamelep.

But, weirdly enough, on the same Census page as the Dewitt family are the Parsons, who have a two month old son, also named Wamelep.

According to Ancestry.com, the only other Wamelep in the history of America was a 4 month old black kid in Virginia in 1900. None of these kids seemed to reach adulthood being named Wamelep.

It seems like if “Wamelep” were just a toss-away name for a kid who hadn’t been given a real name yet, there’d be more than just three of them.   I looked it up on both Yahoo and Google and got nowhere.

Folks, I’m turning to you. What is Wamelep and why would two infants the same age in the same town at the same time have it, but no one else for another twenty years?

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22. The Broken Mirror

Depending on when you visit the Hooters in Hermitage, sometimes there’s a mirror behind the bar. This is not the strange part. If you ask about it when it’s not there, they’ll tell you that the mirror broke and they’re debating about whether to get a new one.

What’s strange is what exactly they mean by “broke.”

See, because no matter what mirror they put up there, eventually there comes to be one too many waitresses in it.  Say it’s in the middle of the afternoon and you have two girls covering, one with brown hair and one with red.  If you’re just looking around the restaurant, you’ll see them running around, lifting trays over patrons’ heads, leaning over to pour more iced tea, checking narrow black folders to make sure they’ve got the right ticket for the table before setting it down.

But, if you look in the mirror, as often as not, you’ll also see a small blonde with a high ponytail and an enormous friendly smile, darting from table to table.

The staff is usually split 50/50 about how they feel about her.  Some of them are terrified, even though she only appears in the mirror and there aren’t weird noises or a feeling like anyone else is present if you’re alone in the dining room.  There’s nothing at all creepy about her.

Some of them secretly appreciate, on busy days, when they are so tired of the “clever” comments and the small tips, catching her eye in the mirror and getting a supportive nod or wink.

But eventually the patrons notice.  And then it becomes really weird.  Usually, one person will see her first and he’ll say something just to the folks at his table.  You’ll see them looking at the mirror and then kind of sitting tall in their seats to crane their necks around and check if they aren’t perhaps mistaken.

Their weird behavior will get the attention of other people who will see what they see in the mirror, and soon enough, the whole restaurant grinds to a silent halt.  No one eats. No one speaks.  They all are just watching the small blonde in the mirror.

They say that one time she seemed to notice that they had all stopped to stare at her and she looked out at them, her brow furrowed in confusion, and she smiled and shrugged, like “what are y’all looking at?” and went back about her business.

On that day, everyone ran out of the restaurant in terror.

This was, you can imagine, a nightmare. Tabs remained open. Credit cards were left unclaimed. Meals were never paid for.  The mirror was taken down, brought out into the parking lot, and busted into countless sparkling pieces.

They’ve tried new mirrors, but she’s always in them, working away, like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world.

Usually, When Women With a Bunch of Cats Start Hording their Pee…

So, I went to the endocrinologist. He said everything he saw from the tests my other doctor ran looks completely normal.

This is when, in most situations, you’d be able to breathe a sigh of relief, right?

Not in this case.  He flipped back and forth some more and said, “Strange. Very strange.” and then he said, “Maybe it’s your adrenal glands. I’m going to need you to collect all your pee in a 24 hour period and bring it to me.”

The Butcher says, “Please don’t leave that somewhere it can spill.”

My Dad says, “What are you supposed to do with all those little cups?”

But no, they gave me a big thing to collect it all in. I’m kind of fascinated to see how full I can get it. And I should probably be embarrassed to admit that in public, but what the fuck?

Maybe “Strange. Very strange.” will end up being my diagnosis.

How Can Susan Lynn Even Write This With a Straight Face?

Representative Lynn writes (in her efforts to promote the 10th Amendment):

The letter states: “The federal government seeks to control the salaries of those employed by private business, to change the provisions of private contracts, to nationalize banks, insurers and auto manufacturers, and to dictate to every person in the land what his or her medical choices will be.” [emphasis mine]

Really, Lynn. Really?

Are you opposed to government dictating medical choices for women because it’s wrong or because you State legislators don’t want the competition?

Well, Here I Go

Today is the big endocrinologist appointment. I have to bring all my medications and get there at least a half an hour early and it will take anywhere from 45 minutes to all afternoon.

To say that I’m completely nervous is an understatement.

And, of course, there’s going to be a fight in the guns thread.  I am saying up front that I’m going to be out for the afternoon. Depending on the news (though I’m not expecting to hear anything right away), I may be out for the evening.

So, I am begging you, please don’t be assholes, because I won’t be here to steer things and you know some jackasses are going to show up.  Please, if all else fails, ignore them. You know I normally wouldn’t ask this, but these are strange times.