Dear
Redneck Son;
Im writing this letter slow because I know you cant
read fast.
We dont live where we did when you left home. Your
dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen
within 20 miles from your home, so we moved.
I wont be able to send you the address because the
last Arkansas family that lived here took the house
numbers when they moved so that they wouldnt have
to change their address.
This place is really nice. It even has a washing
machine. Im not sure it works so well though: last
week I put a load in and pulled the chain and havent
seen them since.
The weather isnt bad here. It only rained twice
last week; the first time for three days and the second
time for four days.
About that coat you wanted me to send you, your Uncle
Stanley said it would be to heavy to send in the mail
with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them
in the pockets.
John locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were
really worried because it took him two hours to get
me and your father out.
Your sister had a baby this morning; but I havent
found out what it is yet so I dont know if your an
aunt or an uncle. The baby looks just like your brother….
Uncle Ted fell in a whiskey vat last week. Some men
tried to pull him out, but he fought them off playfully
and drowned. We had him cremated and he burned for
three days.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pick-up
truck. Ralph was driving. He rolled down the window
and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in
back. They drowned because they

couldnt get the tailgate down.
There isnt much more news at this time. Nothing
much has happened.
Love, Mom
P.S. I was going to send you some money but the envelope
was already sealed.