His name was Roy Sandercock but to everyone who knew him he was just plain "Sandy" and his wife was Alma. Both were very popular and well-liked citizens of our town.
Sandy used to help out at Morris' Cigar Store and was known to keep book on the ponies and sports events before he was succeeded by Fran Gassien.
Knowing his way around the town and everyone in it, Sandy was the type of human being who would go out of his way to please anyone at any time. If he could be of help, it was there just for the asking.
There was a fellow by the name of "Chippy" Duke, then residing on King Street, who approached Sandy and asked him if he would happen to know where he could get a bottle of wine.
It was a Sunday evening and, since "Chippy" had no way of getting a bottle legitimately, it meant finding a bootlegger.
Sandy asked if any of his own "contacts" couldn't be of help. Duke replied in the negative, "with one exception, but he has a big German Shepherd dog and you can't get near the door or you'll get torn apart."
Sandy told Duke to lead the way to this guy's house (whom Sandy happened to know quite well) and not to worry about the dog so off they went.
Arriving at the house Sandy knocked on the door and the dog made a mad leap barking and growling in hopes of warding off the intruders. Sandy just opened the door wide enough to stick in his left leg and said "here you big bugger, try chewing on that!"
An astounded Duke yelled at Sandy and in seconds the dog's owner collared the dog and told him to get back. At that point the dog released Sandy's leg and the owner of the dog said "oh, it's you Sandy. You okay?" he asked.
"Sure I am" he replied.
"What about your leg?" asked Duke.
"Oh that's no problem "Chippy", I lost my leg in the last war and the dog was just trying to chew on my wooden one" he replied.
"Gee," remarked the dog's owner, "I didn't realize that and was wondering why I didn't see any blood."
Duke, looking a little pale from what he had just witnessed, left with Sandy and a bottle of "Bright's Catawba" wine at a cost of $2.00 and some unexpected excitement.
Sandercock's prosthesis was that good that less than a handful of people in town were aware that he had but one leg.