The first storm of autumn clamped down with unseasonable cold -- lows at night in the teens -- which turned the shores of the falls in the middle of town to parallel strips of white lace. Despite the frozen ground the season's last football game would be played, swirls of snow sometimes making the players invisible from the stands. The teams warmed up on the field, stretching and shouting numbers to the rhythm of their exercises. The band members tuned their instruments, the public address announcer counted through the speakers as fans filed into the shelter of the stadium. Phil and I shouldered into the wind, Phil maneuvering the wheelchair toward the stands. Slowly he pushed and turned the chair, and Millie -- heavily robed and blanketed -- bobbed side to side with every bump.

Millie Fr…