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Author Biography
Rose Mary Clarke writes a weekly column about life experiences.
Rose Mary Clarke started writing columns for the Knightstown Banner when she was in high school. A graduate of Knightstown High School, Ball State and Indiana University, she taught French at Franklin Central High School and Howe High School. Her husband, daughter Victoria and she lived in Irvington for many years. She and Bill currently live in Warren Park.
She was a Realtor for over twenty years and returned to writing columns about twelve years ago. Her weekly column that also appears in the Weekly View is about life experiences — travel, nature, the arts and the funny/sad events of the past. She is an avid reader and enjoys writing, cooking and eating good food.
She has published a book of some of her columns that is called Ramblings: A Stroll Down Memory Lane with Henry David Thoreau.
Rose Mary Clarke passed away October 26, 2017.
Rose Mary Clarke’s Story Archive
July 4, 2017, Part 2
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! — William Wordsworth Oh dear! It seems as if Christmas were only a few weeks ago, and it’s already July 5 as I write this. There’s a trunk in … Read More
July 4, 2017
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d, As home his footsteps he hath turn’d, — William Wordsworth I’m bummed out by all the carping, sniping, finger-pointing, nit-picking, hype, and … Read More
Pages of Life
“Time is but a stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it, but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is.” —Henry David Thoreau Walden Last week I wrote about turning flip-flops through time. The capacity that humans have of venturing into the … Read More
Turning Flipflops
I recently crossed that great divide between seventy and eighty years old. Seventy isn’t so bad. Some people even call it middle age. (Bet me!) It no longer has the distinction of great longevity because many people live into their nineties or reach one hundred. The last parent of the … Read More
The Confession of a Junky
“Words, words, words! My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thought never to Heaven go.” — Shakespeare, “Hamlet” Oh dear! At age eighty, I’ve become addicted! No, not to drugs or alcohol, although I do enjoy occasionally enjoy champagne, wine or a Margarita. However, I do understand … Read More