The Narrative Essay

Thick Sliced Bologna

By Bill Ferguson

    The fraying edges and scuffed finish distort the photo, but since I know what to look for, the picture is crystal clear. The young Marine is frozen proudly in his dress uniform. Brass buttons, polished to perfection, line his breast. The royal blue jacket fits him like a glove. Beneath his snowy white hat, his young face yields a slight smile. The smile is quite familiar. I think about him often, not as the young Marine in the photograph, but as my grandfather. Like it was yesterday, I remember the first summer I spent with him.

    I was always excited to go visit him and my grandmother because, like most other grandparents, they were not as strict as parents. During the week my grandmother would entertain me while my grandfather worked; however, everyday he would rush home with thick sliced bologna sandwiches. His lunch break fell in the same time slot as "The Price Is Right"; therefore, it was dubbed his favorite television show. "I like that showcase showdown," he would say repeatedly. When in fact, he really liked watching the girls that demonstrated the prizes.

    At the end of each week we would take a fishing trip. It was not a grand event, but it was special to me. We would park the car and walk about half a mile to the same murky pond every time. We would carry along pop, chips, thick sliced bologna sandwiches, and, of course, the tackle box.

    Worms were for the "average" fisherman so we also brought cheese, peanut butter, Spam, and his secret bait. This strange concoction was of a pasty consistency, pinkish-gray color, and reeked of garlic. Hours would pass without the slightest nibble; however, we would find ways to pass the time. He would tell story after story of things he had done in life. He had possibly held every occupation in existence, from serving in the Armed Forces to welding, to working for the Logan County Board of Education. My two uncles would appear in stories about past fishing experiences. Sometimes stories would arise about me as an infant, a toddler, and a young child. In all our years of fishing, we never caught anything, but we ate quite a few thick sliced bologna sandwiches.

    It was the best summer visit until my grandmother took me for a walk to the drug store. One the way home we stopped and through the tears in her eyes she said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but your grandfather is very sick."

    "Can he take some medicine?" I asked.

    "I'm afraid medicine will not help him. Nothing can now," she muttered as a tear rolled down her cheek.

    "Why not?" I inquired, just like any other eleven year old would.

    "Your grandfather has cancer. It has spread throughout his body to his liver. He only has four months to live."

    After placing the old photograph into a frame, I smiled in pleasure. It looked so much better this way. I miss him more every day. He was my hero, and my best friend. Tonight, just like every other night, I will relive the days of my grandfather. As I close my eyes in the darkness, I laugh softly. I could never have the heart to tell him I did not like thick sliced bologna sandwiches.

This is an "A" paper because Bill has done an excellent job of meeting all the requirements for writing an effective essay.

The Introduction to Bill's essay (and the title is an essential part of the Introduction) is perfect. He relies upon a tried and true introductory technique: he offers the reader a detailed but succinct description. He describes a photograph of his grandfather as a young proud marine in his dress uniform. The details (the "frayed edges of the photo" and the "buttons, polished to perfection") hold the reader's attention and keep the reader focussed on what the rest of the story is about, something that Bill makes clear at the end of the Introduction: a young man is remembering the best times he had with his grandfather.

And the Body of the paper supplies just that and only that information. The boy goes fishing with his grandfather, and they both eat those thick sliced bologna sandwiches. At the end of the Body of the paper we learn of the grandfather's fatal illness from cancer. But we learn of it in the form of dialogue with the young boy and his grandmother, the most effective way to get this information to the reader, and the best way to end the Body of the paper. Again, the Body: details, nothing but essential details.

And the Conclusion? It does exactly what a good conclusion must do. It Unifies the paper and leaves the reader with a lasting Image. We learn that the boy never did like those thick sliced bologna sandwiches, only eating them to make his grandfather happy.

        [These comments are provided by Joe Napora, Associate Professor at Ashland Community College]