I missed Roger's chicken so much last year that as soon as I got home from our reunion, I set about figuring out how to replicate it. "Vance said, 'I want mine right here, near the barbecue pit, where all the food is going to be,'" recalls Vera.
Always one to think ahead, Cousin Vance also carefully selected his future gravesite. Every year his sisters make sure that he gets one. Before his death, Vance made it known that even after he was gone, he just might crave another bite of chicken. Roger's chicken is so good that Vera and her sisters Barbara and Gloria always toss one of his chicken legs over the fence and onto the grave of their dear deceased brother Vance Mitchell, who died eight years ago. But Roger got the dates mixed up and scheduled some sorry old hunting trip instead, so we all had to suffer. "We tell 'em we don't care if he comes, we just want his chicken," says Cousin Vera. But Roger Glenn didn't show up last year, and we were just a touch put out.
We count on him to bring a loaded basket of his impossibly crisp specialty to our homecoming reunion held annually on the shaded grounds next to the Elderville cemetery, where many of our relatives are buried. My uncle Roger Glenn is known for his terrific fried chicken, which we look forward to eating all year.
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