Jackson went hunting in the woods as usual. This was at the dawn of our country's history when there was plenty of woodland and even more guns. He heard a noise ahead of him and raised his rifle. He peered through the brush and saw a woman sitting on a log sobbing. He approached her and asked if he could help. She appeared to be in her fifties.
She displayed her hands and wrists. I am in such pain, she cried. From what, Jackson asked. From making flags, she responded, hundreds of flags. My nerves are inflamed. I cannot sleep.
I thought Betsy Ross made all the flags.
That was then, this is now. She sub contracts now while she vacations in Boca Raton.
What is your name, he asked.
Ethel Carpal. I married Francis Tunnel and go by the name Ethel Carpel Tunnel.
The woods were quiet. Only her crying could be heard.
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