It's morning on "A" Street. The sun is barely poking its brilliant head up over and through the branches of the box elder trees, creating spotlights on the rooftops for the squirrels to dance in.
As the sunshine flows in through my windows, my memories flow outward, to a time and era long ago. A time when life was so much simpler, so much quieter, and so much more adventurous to a little girl of nine.
Once again, it's April of 1951, and my brothers, Jim and Tim, and my oldest sister, Pat and I are sitting in the back of an old borrowed pick-up truck, packed in amongst the last of the boxes, crates, and small pieces of furniture, heading to our new home in Jenks. A light rain falls upon our tow-heads, making the trip all the more exciting.
Momma and Daddy are in the cab of the truck, of course. Daddy driving as carefully as he can over the bumpy and narrow two-laned roads that bring us south from Tulsa, and Momma constantly yelling out the passenger side window: "SIT DOWN! DON'T MOVE AROUND! YOU'LL FALL OUT!!!!!!!"
Finally we cross the Arkansas River bridge, and through imaginary gates into a world that we would learn to cherish and savor, growing and thriving, playing and working, living and dying.
* * * A QMS Deezyne * * *
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