In 1390, the first witch to face trial did so in Paris.
In 1618, Sir Walter Raleigh was beheaded.
In 1682, William Penn landed in what is now Pennsylvania.
In 1811, the first Ohio River steamboat left Pittsburgh for New Orleans. (N’Awlins? Whoa, we should celebrate! Road trip!)
In 1929, the stock market crashed on Black Tuesday, triggering the Great Depression.
In 1945, the first ball point pen went on sale.
In 1966, the National Organization of Women was founded.
And somewhere along in there, Sister Meg was born, ending the Great Depression, probably with a ball point pen in hand and destined to make women everywhere proud.
She was a dainty girly-girl, always behaving with perfect decorum and wearing dainty feminine outfits fit for a princess.
She engaged in sedate, appropriate girly-girl activities.
She’s the kind of friend who would be sitting beside you in that jail cell, saying, “Damn, what a good time!” Or the kind who doesn’t try to calm you down when you’re angry but is right there beside you, swinging a tire iron, saying, “Someone’s gonna get an ass-whooping.” She’s the kind of friend who isn’t embarrassed to be seen — and photographed! — with you when you’re wearing flamingo sunglasses and flamingo head-bobbers in the middle of Tulsa International Airport.
She’s a best friend, and I’m blessed to have her in my life. Happy birthday, Meg!