![]() ![]() Because my columns were published in the newspapers and I received responses, I sensed my connection with a world beyond my kitchen. ![]() I even got a nasty phone call in the night where a man swore at me and hung up. ![]() My writing generated letters galore, some positive and some hostile. Meanwhile before I hiked in Three Sisters Open Space every day, I wrote columns for the Canyon Courier, the Denver Post and Rocky Mountain News. My neighbors gossiped about my having no gymnastic talent and why was I trying cartwheels at my age on my front lawn? I wrote about becoming a soccer mom, my dad who survived prison camp, and my concerns about the sexual revolution of the 1960s.īecause the Chicago Tribune syndicated my columns, I felt like I had hit the big time. During this period of spilling my guts in 750 words or less, I was syndicated by the Chicago Tribune. What made things complicated, I had been writing newspaper columns for 20 years as Mary Stobie. But when we divorced 24 years later in 2004, I could have changed my name back to Mary McFerren. During the great shakeup of COVID-19, as I was deep cleaning my house, it occurred to me, why am I still calling myself Mary Stobie? Yes, I married Mr. ![]()
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