Behind my grandparent’s home was the beginning of a small valley that ran from my Uncle Hugh Wilson’s place all the way back to the river…if you had guts enough to make the trek through an overgrown and somewhat marshy snake infested hay field. I know it was snake infested although I don’t ever recall having seen a single snake there. Once past the hay field the land would turn into a mixed forest which was easier to traverse and was much less infested with imaginary snakes. Later our trail would be blocked by an over flow from Bower’s big lake. On our side of the valley there was a bluff overlooking a year round stream. It was surrounded by a hardwood forest and was a wondrous place to play.
These were the days when it was still okay to run amok shooting imaginary Indians, outlaws, and Japanese or German soldiers…with imaginary guns I might add. I don’t know what kids do for fun now but later we turned to corn cobs and acorns in order to make our battles a bit more realistic and painful. One day we even employed artillery with sharpened, very limber, tree saplings used to throw sour apples very long distances. Forts were built with downfall and later we went so far as to build a tree house out of scrap lumber that might have been five feet off of the ground. It was our castle keep, pirate ship or B-24 dropping out of the clouds to attack and drop our stick of bombs. We had been watching way too much TV. In one of our running acorn battles Charlie McCorkle tried to make a quick get away by sliding down a bank not seeing the lone rusty strand of barbed wire impeding his escape. He probably should have had stitches to close the bloody hook shaped gash under his chin that later became a hook shaped scar.
The end of this story and the book PATHWAYS maybe purchased or downloaded using the following link: http://goo.gl/v7SdkH
Don Miller has also written two other books, “WINNING WAS NEVER THE ONLY THING…” and “FLOPPY PARTS” which may be downloaded or purchased at http://goo.gl/m2ZicJ