I am about to tell you some stories about my brothers and me when we were small children.
They're not boring, so I hope you take a minute to read one or two. Some might awaken a memory in you. They're not unique,
many people of the 1940's and 50's have more or less the same story. My brothers may be a bit upset at me for telling the
world about them, but, oh well, as they say, at least I didn't use their real names. This time. I'm looking for pictures
though. When I get them up I hope some one recognizes them They live in McAlester, Okla. I might sneak
in a real name somewhere, you know how we forget when we're on a roll.
I know you have stories too. Everyone does. I'm thinking of putting up a message board for your stories, but it
depends on the interest.
Do you remember when the rivers were clean? When the sand was white and clean along the banks, and
the fool's gold was so thick you were sure that this time, the water had washed down the real stuff. When you looked
down into the water, you could see the bottom. I remember standing knee-deep in the water watching fish swimming among
the reeds, and around my legs.
Now, everything is dirty. Fences went up with locks on the gates. Warning signs
are everywhere. No Trespassing! Stay Out! No one can take their kids to build sand castles. No more sand
in the hair, mouth and, worst of all, the pants.
It really makes me sad to remember the day the fences went up. Some of my favorite
memories were made on the river.
