d.e.larsen.dvm

Notes on My Mother, from the Archives

D. E. Larsen, DVM My mother was born on August 14, 1913, as Dolores Lorrene Davenport. She was born on the family farm on Catching Creek, out of Myrtle Point, Oregon. The fifth child in a family of ten, she learned how to work at an early age. But by today’s standards, her childhood wasContinue reading “Notes on My Mother, from the Archives”

Can We Eat Her? From the Archives

D. E. Larsen, DVM “Bart, it’s good to see you. Do you need to talk with Debbie?” I asked. “If she is busy, that’s okay. I can wait. I just wanted to tell her we would be gone by the time she gets home. We will have dinner ready for her and Lisa. She isContinue reading “Can We Eat Her? From the Archives”

Power Line Splice in Yellow Snow, From the Archives

D. E. Larsen, DVM The winter of 1968 in West Germany was cold, with multiple ice storms and plenty of snow. I had just been promoted to NCO in charge of the maintenance shop of a remote Army Security Agency Site at Wobeck. Located in the middle of an ancient elm forest outside of theContinue reading “Power Line Splice in Yellow Snow, From the Archives”