Happy Birthday

For those folks who follow this blog and it is, coincidentally, your birthday I wish you well and a most happy birthday.

However, the real reason for my birthday wish is to celebrate and recall the tragic tale of Irene and Shirley Shugfield, twin girls, who were born 58 years ago today, March 10th, 1952.

The day they were born in, Cornville, South Dakota, their mom had just finished milking the family cow when she felt dizzy and suddenly damp (the mom, not the cow).

The expectant woman knew the moment was now and she, instinctively, hollered for her husband (Lyle) who immediately began boiling sheets and drinking corn liquor.

The girls were delivered by a passing chiropodist and the twins arrived safely with no thanks to Lyle. However, Mrs. Shugfield did have clean sheets on her bed.

A few years passed and the girls became the focal point of their family life. In addition, all was well and blissful until one fateful day when Shirley wandered off into the hills by herself and was never seen again. At first, the family thought she was just playing hide and seek; however, after a few months they gave up on that idea.

After Shirley’s disappearance a veil of darkness fell over the family. Lyle began drinking more heavily and talking to his cattle in tongues. Meanwhile, Mrs. Shugfield sat in front of her dresser mirror plucking hairs from her scalp and eyebrows for hours at a time; the results, of course, were not flattering to her and did little to improve her farm girl features. Furthermore, Irene, Shirley’s twin sister, stayed in her room for days on end eating corn nuts and writing Haiku poetry about sheep.

On the occasion when travelers would pass by their farm, the parents would call to them to relate the story about their missing daughter in hopes of finding an answer to the mystery. Years went by and no one could shed any light on her disappearance. Luckily, one time, a dark haired stranger responded to their call and stated that he had heard tales of a young girl that was found in the Black Hills of Dakota by a Gypsy band of medical attorneys.

Apparently, according to the dark haired stranger, the attorneys raised the girl as a paralegal, filed suit against her, and settled in Duluth. Shirley was never found and some say she is locked inside one of the lawyer’s briefs.

Finally, finding no relief in the stranger’s answer and after years of worry and grief, the entire family joined a traveling carnival and was also never heard from again.

The End