Fridays with Landon: "Another Time...Another Place"

© 2006 Richard McKenzie Neal. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 12/30/2005

ISBN: 1-4259-3880-9 (sc)

ISBN: 1-4259-3881-7 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-1739-4 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2006905036

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Foreword

Addendum

6/18/2004

7/9/2004

7/16/2004

7/23/2004

7/30/2004

8/6/2004

8/13/2004

8/20/2004

8/27/2004

9/3/2004

9/10/2004

9/17/2004

9/24/2004

10/1/2004

10/8/2004

10/15/2004

10/22/2004

10/29/2004

11/5/2004

11/11/2004

11/12/2004

11/19/2004

11/26/2004

12/3/2004

12/10/2004

12/17/2004

12/24/2004

12/31/2004

1/7/2005

1/14/2005

1/21/2005

1/28/2005

2/4/2005

2/11/2005

2/18/2005

2/25/2005

3/4/2005

3/11/2005

3/18/2005

3/25/2005

4/1/2005

4/8/2005

4/15/2005

4/22/2005

4/29/2005

5/6/2005

5/20/2005

5/27/2005

6/3/2005

6/10/2005

6/17/2005

6/24/2005

7/1/2005

7/8/2005

7/15/2005

7/22/2005

7/29/2005

8/5/2005

8/12/2005

8/19/2005

8/26/2005

9/2/2005

9/9/2005

9/16/2005

9/23/2005

9/30/2005

10/7/2005

10/14/2005

10/21/2005

10/28/2005

11/4/2005

11/11/2005

11/18/2005

11/25/2005

12/2/2005

12/9/2005

12/16/2005

12/23/2005

12/30/2005

Appendix

About the Author

Acknowledgement

Because Landon asked…

Book Summary/Synopsis:

The words contained within the covers of this book are intended to speak to some of life’s ups and downs. Life encompasses a multitude of components that require daily maintenance and/or management…and your judgment in those areas will drive the direction of your existence. Life will, sooner or later, introduce you to the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in-between…humor, joy, sadness and the always-present mystery. The author believes the words in this book to be universal…although not universally spoken nor acknowledged.

Richard’s odyssey has been continuous from the denial of his rural Arkansas roots to his acceptance in Phase Three. While the Greyhound bus physically transported him away from his disdain…and provided the escape from his dysfunctional family, the relocation only skewed his perspective. California was a world apart from Arkansas, and without an education and/or a craft…life would severely test the author’s fortitude and determination. It would resemble a scavenger hunt as he chased his always-moving, always-fading demons for personal understanding.

This book began simply enough as letters to his son (the second of two from the author’s second marriage) who was/is also seeking self-understanding. The son was serving prison time for drug usage and drug-related crimes stemming from twenty years of abuse. Added to that, his son, Landon, is afflicted with epilepsy and the combination (epilepsy and heroin) can produce deadly consequences.

His son’s first letter not only requested that his father correspond with him, but that he fill in the gaps of his life…his words were, Dad, I know nothing of you before our family. The father was taken aback…he had rarely, if ever, thought about his past life…much less verbalized it to others. Initially, as he reflected on the request, he wondered if he even remembered anything about his past…or had he buried it so deeply (through denial) that he would never be able to resurrect the information that his son was requesting.

The book chronicles the author’s early years in Arkansas and his own drug abuse during his twenties as he struggled in California. The book reveals the author’s insecurities regarding his lack of a formal education. How he created a façade to conceal his perceived deficiencies as he managed a challenging career (the majority of those years at the supervisory level) within the oil industry.

One cannot read just one of the letters, encapsulated between the Foreword and the last page…, and fully comprehend the purpose and/or intent of this collaboration between the writer’s present life and his long-buried past. Singularly, none of the enclosed correspondence is capable of standing alone…but linked together, they provide a measure of insightfulness and understanding (you decide about what). There are common threads woven throughout the writing…and there are also subliminal messages, advice, thoughts, insight, understanding, encouragements and reconciliation embedded within the dynamics of this endeavor.

From the author: Landon and I have come a long way with our burdens; and while neither of us have arrived yet…I believe we are both on the correct path and approaching the other side. But only time will tell…

Foreword

06/18/2004

This collection of letters began simply enough as routine communication between a father and his troubled son. With that in mind, I committed to writing a letter a week…and a letter has been mailed every Friday since (Fridays With Landon). The underlying purpose was to keep him company and provide a measure of support as he served out an eighteen-month sentence. The accompanying letters and the style in which they were delivered were, and continue to be, driven by numerous external influences.

My first letter from Landon, after he had made his way through the court system and had been placed for the duration of his incarceration was dated 6/2/04. His words spoke of the depth of his despair and the internal torment that, if not for the grace of God, the arrest, he would have probably ended his life that night. He not only requested that I correspond with him, but that I fill in the gaps of my life…his words were, I know nothing of you before our family. I was taken aback…I had rarely, if ever, thought about my past life…much less verbalized it to others. Initially, as I reflected on his request, I wondered if I even remembered anything about my past…or had I buried it so deeply (through denial) that I would never be able to resurrect the information that he was requesting.

The timing of Landon’s inquiry, about my life, really struck home because of a movie that I had viewed a few weeks earlier…entitled Big Fish. The story was about a man who was dying and his adult son was upset with him because…he said, Dad, I don’t even know who you are! The father was flabbergasted by what his son had just said and replied, I’ve always told you everything about my life. The son’s retort was, Dad, you have always just been a big bullshitter…a liar, all those wild stories you told…no one ever believed any of that crap. But by the end of the movie, you knew that all the stories were true…the father had just embellished a little and added some color to make them more interesting…just like Landon’s Grandpa…Arden Hambly.

A couple of other movies that inspired me to dig deeper into the recesses of my mind are Secondhand Lions and The Notebook. Secondhand Lions was about two very prideful but aging men, struggling with their self-worth. The Notebook was a love story…of the most profound nature.

Another source that I have drawn from…for motivation and inspiration has been Mitch Albom’s book, The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Albom’s book (fictional) deals with our day-to-day interactions with others…and how we, and those we cross paths with, are influenced and/or affected by life’s random encounters. We are all part of the human race and as such…our every action has a ripple consequence for someone…good…bad…or whatever. I have written and will continue to write about interesting people whom I have met and/or others whom I expect to meet. The book says that we will meet certain people in our life that will profoundly affect our long-term destination…and I don’t want to miss any of those opportunities or the results of the encounters.

Trying to reconstruct my childhood, while writing about a period in my life that I had always put behind me was difficult at first. But with each story (letter), the task became increasingly less arduous and more of an insightful regression into another time…another place. With each Friday’s mailing came new…and previously forgotten memories from my past…some good…some not so good…and some, I don’t know when I’ll be able to put into words.

A few months into my epistolary relationship with Landon, it became apparent (to me) that the original purpose of our writing was evolving into something more…while Landon continued as the recipient of the information he had requested, I had uncannily become the primary beneficiary of our Fridays together. The stories continue to open new and forgotten doors…each leading to other doors that possibly shouldn’t be accessed. By then, I had begun looking forward to the next excursion back…digging deeper and deeper into my subconscious. The more I’ve learned, the less I seem to comprehend, but I now understand why I have often been referred to as an enigma. These letters are providing me with a measure of understanding and thought-provoking insight that I never knew…and still cannot totally grasp.

This commitment (a letter a week) has now developed far beyond anything I could have envisioned…not only is Landon getting to know his father…but hopefully, someday, the whole family will see him (Richard) in a different light. And because of that, I will ultimately be more at peace with where I came from…and who I am today. But without Landon’s thought-provoking and insightful request for knowledge regarding my past life…I would not be wrapped up in what I consider to be the most important thing that I can leave for my children…and their children! I never dreamed that I would look forward to writing anything…and certainly not every week! I run for my physical health and now I write for my mental health…and hopefully to mend the hole in my soul.

I view this compilation of letters and stories as an open-ended…ongoing labor of love. I will continue to mentally explore my past for any additional stories…or yarns that might be tucked away. I feel that I am fast developing an endless store of emerging insightful and thought-provoking material.

Addendum

02/10/2005

Since you are reading this Foreword, one could surmise that you are interested in consuming the proverbial food for thought contained within the pages of these letters. I would encourage you to peruse this material rather than just skimming through the superficial…even mundane verbiage. One cannot read just one of the letters, encapsulated between the Foreword and The End, and fully comprehend the purpose and/or intent of this collaboration between the writer’s present life and his long-buried past. Singularly, none of the enclosed correspondence is capable of standing alone…but linked together, they provide a measure of insightfulness and understanding (you decide about what). There are common threads woven throughout the writing…and there are also subliminal messages, advice, thoughts, insight, understanding, encouragements and reconciliation embedded within the dynamics of this endeavor.

The writer has attempted to force his readers to read between the lines. The answers are there, if the reader is truly seeking (with an open mind) to understand…otherwise, the answers will evade detection…even as time ticks away. If the words, collected and composed, on the following pages appear enigmatic…then the writer would say, Yes, I know.

Thank you, Landon, for motivating and inspiring your dad to write his memoir during his idle years.

6/18/2004

Landon,

Sorry about the delay in answering your note. As you probably already know, I retired the first of this month (after thirty-six years) and am still in the process of getting all the paperwork in place. It is very strange not going to work…and of course, not receiving regular paychecks. I am working to streamline my expenses and make the necessary adjustments to my life that will allow me to live on my Social Security.

Summer League Basketball started last night with our first practice. I have taken a 3rd & 4th grade team of boys for a change this year. Our first game is next Friday, so I only have a week to get ready for the game.

I was up north last weekend helping Lance move to Clovis and saw a road sign along the way that pointed to Wasco…and thought of you. Do you know where you’ll be going from there yet?

You asked me to write about my life and what drives me. I think we both know that’s not something that can be accomplished in one letter. I will however write a little about myself with each exchange of mail if that works for you.

You also inquired about how I stayed on the same job for thirty-six years and about my continued love of running and coaching basketball.

About my job…I started in the oil field as a roustabout and rig hand. In those days it was a very dangerous, physical and dirty job, but for a high school dropout it paid very good money. I worked hard, went to work every day and did whatever I was told to do. I have always believed that if you do these things, you will succeed and be rewarded. Over the years I worked my way up the ladder and supervised, at one time or another, each of my company’s four departments. My last assignment (before retiring) was as the supervisor of Platform Emmy. Emmy is an offshore oil platform and considered to be a major asset of Shell Oil. You once suggested (to me) that I had an easy job…that all I had to do was go to work each day and sit behind a desk…you were incorrect. Because I was a high school dropout, I had to work even harder than most just to stay afloat. I had no education…I could barely read or write. I worried every day that I would be found out…I had to put twice the time and effort into my work to hide my lack of education. But I knew that as a father, husband, and a very prideful man, failure was not an option. I always enjoyed my job and felt blessed to have been given the opportunity to prove myself in such a competitive field. My co-workers always respected me because I never lost sight of my roots.

My running and coaching…these two are easy to explain. Running is extremely important and a priority with me because I value my good health. Everyone in my family died young because of poor health habits…I desire to live a long, healthy and productive life. Running makes me feel good, it levels out my highs and lows…it also gives me a sense of well-being and a mental calmness.

Basketball is also a health consideration with me…it provides me a physical workout as I run and practice with the team. And again, the mental and emotional rewards that come from feeling that I am making a difference in someone’s life. We all have something that we do well…something that we enjoy…something that we can share…and I believe that my thing is working/coaching with kids. It gives meaning to my otherwise non-contributory life. Basketball and running are critical to my health and my mental wellness.

I would ask you to think about your life and what you will do differently when you are released. You cannot continue to do the same things over and over again and expect different results. Reflect on the reality that your life is probably half over and what do you have to show for it…but remember, you still have time to make amends…but again, only if you are willing and disciplined enough to change the way you think…you must re-think and re-arrange your priories. And of course I am not telling you anything that you don’t already know.

Love you Son,

Your Dad

7/9/2004

Landon,

That was some letter that you wrote…no way that I’ll be able to respond to all of your questions in this correspondence. I just thought that I would continue with what I said in my first letter about just answering all your inquiries over a period of time.

The thing that I read in your letter that really got my attention was that you haven’t smoked since your arrest. We have talked about priorities and we have talked about discipline…they go hand in hand. You must first prioritize your life and then you must have the discipline/willpower to follow through.

Your first priority should be your health because, without your health, you will be unable to address the other priorities that you have on your list. By never smoking again, you will have made a great start in turning your life around. Reasons: 1) to set an example for your sons; 2) for your health (priority 1)…we all know that smoking is detrimental to our health; 3) if you can break your smoking habit, you’ll know that you have a fighting chance against your other life-altering habit; 4) just the expense of purchasing cigarettes is a financial drain that you can ill afford. It’s wasted money that makes those who might want to help you unwilling to assist due to the possibility that their dollars could well be used to purchase cigarettes. You must follow through with this…it will provide you with the much-needed self-confidence and demonstrate to others that you are determined to change your life style. Please do this not only for yourself, but also for your family.

About the guys you asked about from work…Tom Davis is still there and I believe he is around my age, but will probably work until he is sixty-five. Larry Toler was let go about ten years ago for drinking and the last I heard, he was working for Thums (a small oil company down in Long Beach). I ran into Toler a few years ago and his heavy drinking has taken its toll on him…he is looking very old…I was surprised and almost didn’t recognize him. David Faye (my best friend at work) was fired about six years ago for child porn on the Internet. He was later arrested and served time. They had to sell their house to pay his lawyer, and his wife and family moved to Utah to be near her family for support. David later followed them after completing his time and parole. As far as I know, his wife has stuck with him through all of this…she believed his story that he didn’t know the girl was underage. David and I never spoke again after his firing and arrest…he would not accept nor return my phone calls. His wife kept me updated and said that David was just too embarrassed to talk to me.

I will write more later, but will go ahead and send this now.

Love you Son,

Your Dad

7/16/2004

Hey Buddy,

Today, how about we talk about regrets…you spoke about how sometimes you wished that you had pursued sports more vigorously. You must be wondering what if. You asked that in my opinion, were you a good or just an average pitcher?

If you remember, Bill Harmon was my assistant baseball coach when you were playing. I was the Head Coach and a pretty good one too, but through the years, Bill was always a big part of the success that my teams enjoyed. Over those years, we won the city championship once and finished second another year. I was the strategist and Bill was the fundamentalist…Bill knew baseball inside out!

All the above is to say, Bill and I coached many years together. We didn’t win the championship every year, but we always put together a good and winning team (meaning that we always won more than we lost)…no one ever looked forward to playing us. Bill and I both thought that you were one of the top two pitchers that we coached. The last year that you played for us…we were thinking that we could win the championship with your pitching…you could really "bring it!" I can’t remember the details of you leaving the team (because I have put that all behind me), but I think that I always felt responsible for not motivating you more to stay. You would have been an excellent high school pitcher.

I also have something that I think back about…I can’t say that I regret it, because my life has been pretty good and rewarding. If I had taken that other path, we wouldn’t be having this conversation…our family would have never existed, as we know it today. You, Lance and the grandkids would not have come to be…you would be non-existent. So for every action, there will be a reaction and/or consequence. In life, every decision, every road taken and even the roads not taken can and will change the direction of your future. It is not so much the road you choose, but the way that you navigate that path to your ultimate destination. Do not regret the past, as you cannot change it…just work on the present.

My what if goes back to high school…I was always very athletic and had good physical attributes. I was the quarterback and middle linebacker (played both ways) on our freshman football team. By the 10th grade I was 6’ tall at 180 lbs. when I was moved to varsity to start at linebacker and back up the senior quarterback. Beginning my junior year, I was up to 185 lbs. and listed as both the starting linebacker and starting quarterback. My name was in the newspaper following every game. I was always the leading tackler and I could run well with the ball, or throw it (as the newspaper said) a country mile…even in the rain.

I dropped out of high school after the football season, and before the end of my junior year (got a job for minimum wage) so that I could do whatever. Everyone tried to talk me out of leaving…and of course the school and my coaches tried to get me to understand the opportunity that I had in my hands. It was often said that I was the best-looking quarterback to ever come through Hope High. I was told that I would most certainly be offered a full scholarship to one of any number of universities. I just couldn’t see the bigger picture. No one in my family had ever attended college and I just couldn’t comprehend the possibilities. I, like so many young people today, couldn’t see beyond the present.

Do I regret it (not going on to college)…? No, but I do occasionally wonder what if.

Love you Son,

Your Dad

7/23/2004

Hey Buddy,

I gave your Mother a bunch of writing paper and she’s going to pick up the prepaid envelopes and send them to you as soon as possible.

My basketball team is currently 4 & 0, but my big kid will be on vacation this coming Saturday and will miss the game…but, I think that we’ll still win even without him.

About the cars that I drove before you started keeping track of them…growing up in Arkansas, we didn’t have a lot of money. My Mother was a waitress and my stepfather pumped gas, did oil changes, fixed flat tires and just general auto servicing (12-hour shifts) at an all-night service station. My stepfather drove a black, 4-door sedan, flathead V-8, 1941 Ford and my Mother had a two-tone green, 2-door hardtop, flathead V-8, 1952 Pontiac. When I was about fourteen, I was allowed to drive the Ford for some household errands, and when I turned fifteen, I was permitted to use it for occasional dates and school-related transportation. On very special dates (if I pleaded long enough), I got to drive the Pontiac…but not often!

When I turned sixteen, my Mother purchased a ‘50 Ford (they were all flatheads back then) for me. One day, Max Bruce (my best friend in high school) and I were messing around chasing some girls on a gravel road and rolled my car. Just months before I turned it upside down, my mother had had the motor rebuilt and the interior re-done for my Christmas present. Needless to say, she was very upset about the accident. She said that she wasn’t dumping another penny into it…that it was my mess…deal with it! I bought a ‘49 Ford body (decent shape) from an auto-wrecking yard and switched motors, drive trains and as much of the interior (couldn’t change the headliner) as possible. It was never the same…it ran, but it just wasn’t as clean as the ‘50 and the engine didn’t seem to perform as well…for whatever reason.

When I was seventeen, she helped me buy a beautiful ‘55 Ford, 2-door hardtop with a very hot engine. I was working part-time for my Uncle Roy (her brother), but she had to co-sign for the loan on the car.

Six months later, I ran off and got married to Rhonda’s mother…Sue Mosier. My Mother (bless her heart) was so mad that she had the car repossessed and then encouraged her brother (Roy) to fire me. When all that didn’t cause me to come home, she tried to get the marriage invalidated. Sue’s parents put us on a Greyhound bus to California and we arrived in Anaheim (like the Depression-era Okies…or Arkies in our case). My Uncle Alfred (my dad’s brother), his wife, Rosa Lee, and their children (Debbie [one of my two favorite cousins], Donny and Phyllis) put us up for a few weeks until I got a job and we rented a small apartment. I had to find someone to ride back and forth to work with since we didn’t even have a car. Sue was able to get a part-time job (within walking distance) at a little office supply store near our apartment.

We were eventually able to buy a used (but very nice) ‘56 Ford Convertible…a 2-door, black-and-white, overhead-valve V-8. Back then, all oils were not high detergent…and some of us learned the hard way. The costly lesson was…one doesn’t pour high detergent oil into old engines that have always operated with non-detergent oil. But, in trying to do the right thing for my new car…the first thing I did was to change the oil. I drained the old oil and refilled with a good brand of high-detergent oil…and you guessed it…a month or so later, it began smoking and using oil. Whoever traded it in had probably always used non-detergent oil and the build-up of sludge and carbon kept the old worn engine from burning the oil. Then I come along and clean the engine with my high-detergent oil and the shit hits the fan. Even though I didn’t have the money, the engine had to be rebuilt and/or replaced. Driven by my shade-tree mechanic mentality, I bought a short block (on credit) and replaced the engine myself…lesson learned!

Because lessons are usually learned at a price…one should never lose sight of the learning…or the expense. Our losses will not always be measured in dollars…but there are many things in life far more important and valuable than money.

Love you Son,

Your Dad

7/30/2004

Hey Buddy,

I spoke with your Mother about the writing stuff…envelopes, etc. and I believe that she was about to send the package along with a few dollars (that we put together) for your essentials. You’ll probably get her mail before you receive this letter.

About the war…George W. is my president and I will continue to support him. I believe in being pro-active and going after them before they come to us. In hindsight, I’m sure that most of us wish that we had never entered this war…but of course hindsight is 20/20. At this point, I just hope that we will get out of there as soon as possible. I also expect that after we pull out, Iraq will continue as it has for centuries…different tribes and factions fighting and killing each other over their religious differences. And then there’s John Kerry…he makes me ill…he is such a weasel…a snake in the grass. That’s just my personal opinion, of course.

You asked about my routine since I retired. I have coined this new saying so that when my friends ask about how I’m doing…I can say, You know…since I have retired, every night is Friday night! I have also been able to start sleeping in a little…at first I was still getting up around 6:00 AM, but I am now routinely sleeping until 7 or 7:30 AM. Part of that is due to the fact that I am staying up later now. Every morning starts with the newspaper (I am a news junkie) and coffee. Then I wash the dishes, check my email, run a few miles, water my plants…and each day I try to do some house cleaning…not all in one day, but something every day. I have even started washing my own truck to save a little money. I have basketball practice two evenings a week and games on Saturday.

You also inquired about what I am currently driving…November of last year, a car pulled out in front of me as I was driving west on Adams. I was traveling about 50 mph when I broadsided the Cadillac…and it was a vintage model. My 2000 Dodge Dakota was a total loss (as was the Cadillac) and I was treated by a chiropractor for about three months. It was her fault and she had good insurance (as I do)…her insurance covered everything plus a little pain and suffering for me. I now drive a ‘04 Dodge Dakota that is much better than the 2000.

Lance is out of the house in San Marcos and they are currently in a rental house in Clovis. Their new home should be ready for them to move into by the end of October and it is only a few blocks from the rental house. You may or may not know…but after Lance got the job at Madera High School, he decided that it wasn’t the right place for him…so he just quit. But remember; if you do the right thing…things usually work out for the best. Lance went straight to Clovis West High School (where he wanted to eventually end up anyway) and applied for the assistant football coach’s job. Clovis is also closer to his new home…the other job (Madera) was a 60-mile-a-day round trip. All that is to say…Lance is now a teacher and assistant football coach at Clovis West High School.

About your true friend Dave…don’t ever take advantage of his friendship…do not ever let your addiction cause you to do some things that would cause Dave to regret being your friend. True friends are precious things and should be protected.

I think about you every day and hope that you are well and that someday you will be able to live a normal life…I always love you, but your addiction doesn’t allow me to always trust you…I hope that you understand that.

Tyler and I have been occasionally having lunch and a movie together during his summer vacation from school.

Hopefully, your current non-smoking situation will motivate you to embrace a long-term non-smoking lifestyle.

Love you Son,

Your Dad

8/6/2004

Landon,

I hope that things are still going well and that you are still a non-smoker. It’s Friday and I am running late on this week’s letter…but I am working on it and will get it in the mail later today.

It’s about 12:00 PM (noon) right now and I am expecting your Mother and Nicole to drop by around 1:00 PM today. Nicole is Rhonda’s granddaughter…not daughter, but granddaughter. And you are correct, that would make her my great-granddaughter. Unbelievable! I am not sure, but I think she’s seven or eight…Rhonda and Nicole have been in town for the last week visiting with your Mother. Rhonda and I have not spoken to each other in the last eight or nine years, so I will probably not be seeing her while she is in town. They are flying home tomorrow and today is my last chance to meet Nicole because Judy has had to work Nicole’s visit (with me) into her (Judy’s) busy schedule. During their stay with Judy, they have been doing some tourist-type stuff around the area. I think that they (Judy included) did the Sea-World thing (San Diego) yesterday.

The basketball team is still undefeated and we are playing our last game tomorrow and then we will have our team party the following Saturday. It has been fun working with the little guys again…and it was really cute when one of them (3rd & 4th graders) would come up and say, Richard, what do you want me to do now? I told them at the beginning of the season that they could call me Coach or Richard. My big kid’s name is Joey and he is always messing with the other kids and they are always hollering at me that Joey is freaking them out…so now when Joey is screwing around, I just say, Stop it Joey, you’re freaking us out and all his teammates love it.

Your Mother and Nicole (and Tyler was with them) just left here. We had a good visit and I took some digital pictures of both kids. I have downloaded the pictures and emailed them to Judy’s work location and she will print them out next week and we’ll send you some copies.

When I was a kid growing up in Hope, Arkansas, we weren’t indigent and we didn’t go hungry, but we lived a simple life. I can’t remember ever traveling or taking a vacation…and any form of savings was incomprehensible. Although occasionally…on a Saturday afternoon, we (us kids) would get to see a matinee at the local picture show because it only cost 10¢ each.

We never had air conditioning…just one window fan for the entire house. Our house was built on cinder blocks…this was before houses were built on concrete slabs. Underneath was about 18 to 24 of clearance and I remember as kids (probably five, six, seven or eight years old), we would play under the house. It was all dirt (but clean dirt) and in the heat of those southern summers, it was the coolest place to be, but there were lots of spiders and bugs under there. We would crawl beneath the house with our toy cars, trucks and even little houses and hotels from an old Monopoly game in preparation for building our privately operated city for kids. We would make little roads all over the place…leading to all the strategically placed structures (houses and hotels). But more often than not…by the time we got everything just the way we wanted it…our big ol’ dog would come charging under the house to be with us. And in the process…wipe out all of our little roadways and scatter the toy cars, trucks and buildings in all directions. We would holler at him (I think his name was Happy) but he always thought that we were praising him…and he would just stand there grinning and wagging his tail.

I remember my first day of school…I was waiting in front of our house for the school bus to pick me up.