Letter From A Tennessee Mom To Her Daughter 

Dear Ellie Mae:

  I'm writing this letter slow because I know you can't read fast. We don't
live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that
most accidents happen within 20 miles from home, so we moved. I won't be able
to send you the address because the last West Virgina family that lived here
took the house numbers when they moved so that they wouldn't have to change
thier address.
  This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I'm not sure it 
works so well though: last week I put a load in and pulled out a chain and 
haven't seen them since. The weather isn't bad here. It only rained twice 
last week; the first time for three days and the second time for four days. 
About the coat that you wanted me to send to you, 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 her baby
but I don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet so I don't know if you your an
aunt or an uncle. The baby looks just like your brother...
  Uncle Ted fell in a whiskey vat at the distillery and drowned last week. 
Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off valiantlly. We had him
creamated 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 saftey. Your other two friends
were in the back. They drowned because they couldn't get the tailgate down.
There isn't much more news at this time. Nothing much has happend.

Love Mom,

P.S. I was going to send you some money but the envelope was already sealed.