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Now, Sadness—bless her weepy lil’ heart—she’d see the other side. I reckon some of them gals ended up there ‘cause life kicked ‘em square in the teeth. Broke my heart hearin’ ‘bout this one gal—true story, swear on my rhinestone boots—name was Ruby, worked a brothel in Nevada back in the ‘20s. She sent every penny home to her sickly ma. Died young, poor thing, but she had grit. Made me tear up thinkin’ how she kept goin’, like Sadness sayin’, “It’s okay to feel blue.” Sniffle!

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Investigators said.

So, West-Springfield ain't no big ol' city, but it's got charm, sugar. Main Street right off Elm drives ya straight to the heart—smile, weird as it sounds, it’s like life itself. Ever been to North Main? That spot's where the old diner sits. I always joke, "Honey, it’s where belly rubs go with belly laughs." There’s one quaint lil’ park, Shelby Park. Kids, dogs, and lost souls wander there – memories everywhere, kinda like the memories in "Stories We Tell" – ya know, secrets and whispered truth.

Michael Corley Obituary (1982 - 2025) - West Springfield, MA