I know this blog is supposed to be dedicated to our Brooklyn years but it seems our trips down memory lane have jarred lose memories from “the before time.” Some of those memories are so intense that certain ones of us have purposed to travel back, looking for answers.
· Who was that old lady who lived in the shack behind our house? Was it really a shack? Was it in the woods?
· Did Douglas really dig a swimming pool?
· Was Tony, the neighbor boy, really, as he claimed, “suppose to be twins” or was their another reason for his childhood obesity? (Was that REALLY a second belly button?)
· Are there teeth marks in the concrete by the garage left by Teresa when she made a swan dive into the sidewalk from the swing? Or was it a grapevine?
· Why did Dennis hit Joe in the head with a shovel when they were playing in the sandbox?
· Was there really a secret stairway to the attic?
· Who masterminded the whole peeing-in-the-register thing?
· Why did that neighborhood lady, Shirley, always give us candy?
· Why do I always connect the name Denny Defenball to Marilyn?
· What was the name of that little Dog that bit me?
· Should I take the blame for spoiling the surprise about the flashlight on Dad’s birthday or was it really Dennis’ fault?
· Did mom really send me to the store when I was only four?
The list could go on and on. The point is inquiring minds want to know! Ron and I are traveling to Cincinnati, the first week in May, to run in the Flying Pig race. It’s officially the Flying Pig Marathon, but we’re only running a half marathon. It’s actually a collection of walks and runs, so anyone can find something to match their fitness level.
If you decide to participate, you too will be seeking the answer to the biggest question left from our Ohio years: Will the Hobo’s REALLY cut off your toes if they catch you in the woods?
That’s why I’m calling this trip The Hobo Scramble.
See you in Cinci?
http://www.flyingpigmarathon.com
3 comments:
The old lady was Betsy and it the house was a shack by today's standards. It wasn't really in the woods but had alot of brush around it. Betsy always had a nice garden and would pay good money to pick her tomatoes for her and a penny or two to fetch her paper. Dad was contesting that her fence was on his property. It was a chance for him to practice for his law degree.
Douglas and the neighbor Denny Defenbal did dig a very dangerous swimming pool that was sure to drown one of us young ones. After a concerned child informed the parental authorities it was deemed unfit and ordered filled in.
Who the heck was Tony??
It was Marilyn that fell out of the swing. Teresa could barley walk. The details have been repressed due to my possible involvement.
I did witness the attempted murder by brother Dennis but that too has been repressed. There was alot of blood--redrum--
Seems like there wasn't a secret stairway, just a secret door to a part of the attic that was off limits. What really was behind that door?
As far as the peeing it was monkey see monkey do. Must have been a shortage of bathrooms in that big old house. Mom did catch me in the act. Bless me father for I have sinned.
Shirley--I thought she was a cousin.
Dennis Defenball was Doug's age. Maybe Marilyn had a crush on him.
Forget the dog-it was all those bee stings from the field of clover between our house and the Defenball's that caused so much childhood pain and suffering.
No idea about the flashlight.
You must have picked up by an UFO on one of your town trips at age 4. How else can you explain such a super human memory of so many distant events. You are some kind of alien experiment in superior memory power. Kind of like no distance in time and space. Could it be a curse? Are they still in contact with you?
The Hobo's wouldn't just cut off your toes. They would cut off your toes and throw them in the river! I don't know why but the throwing them in the river was the scarriest part for a little kid.
A minor correction. I was Joe that opened Dennis' scalp with that shovel (actually a small garden trowl). He must have had it comming to him. Surly Joe would not have done so otherwise.
Post a Comment