Playing In The Street

McIntosh seemed to be "charmed" to me even when I was thought to be too young to perceive such a notion. It was my home although I lived in the house of my family, my home soon expanded beyond the property lines of the place where I resided. When I was no more than five years old I spent many hours sitting on top of the mailbox watching the world go by. There was regular traffic on the road every day. We almost could predict who and when the next car or truck would be. Only occasionally would a strange vehicle come by. A few each day but not more than a couple at my earliest recollection. I became infatuated with the road and cars and trucks before I could read or write. This infatuation was fueled by the fact that Mama trusted me to be out beside the road because even when I was pre-five that was my playground. "Just stay on this side of the pavement" that was the rule. I understood and was obedient enough that I only got one whipping for getting in the road at the wrong time. More on that when the time comes.

 

Back in the late forties or more likely the very early fifties June taught me how to ride a bicycle in the middle of the highway between the Perry driveway and Grandmama's driveway.