So, now we know the story of Homer Price and the doughnuts. Fast forward a couple of decades. A fellow Cleveland Heights resident named Tom tells his wife and children that Homer Price was his favorite book as a child. And, the story of the doughnut maker was his favorite chapter. Tom and his family live in a very pleasant and neighborly section of Cleveland Heights. Everybody in the area knows everybody else and all know what each and everybody are up to.
So one day, around the year 2000 or so, Tom's neighbor across the street had a garage sale. That neighbor, Chuck, owned a small diner here in Cleveland Heights and was selling a never-used, automatic, industrial doughnut maker that he purchased for said diner, but never ended up using. (I worked as a bus-boy in that diner for a couple of months in 1986. I ended up getting fired. You had to be really, really bad to get fired from Chuck's. Separate story. Chuck now lives in Oregon, where he moved in 2005 or so. I ran into him often until his move and occasionally reminded him that he once fired me. It was a big joke among our crowd. We're now friends on F-Book.)
So anyhow, Tom's wife, Cindy, and children saw this doughnut maker and decided to buy it as a surprise and give it to him for Father's Day, a couple of weeks later, in remembrance of his Homer memory. He was thrilled. But what does one do with an industrial size/quality doughnut maker when one doesn't own an industrial restaurant? He built a beautiful wood and plexiglass stand for it and began using it at church gatherings. Also, he let anybody and everybody borrow it just so that it wouldn't go to waste. Additionally, he began inviting friends and family to come over on a chosen Saturday morning each October to look at it and marvel at it's beauty.
His annual October doughnut soire gathered steam and size and eventually caught the eyes and ears of the Plain Dealer reporter who lived down the street.
Can you guess where this story is going? 
To be continued...
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