ME AND MY BROTHER

I don’t go to see my brother as often as I should. I say this,but does anyone know how long of a time makes an often. Life goes on. I still like to remember things we did together. I probably don’t remember them the same way that he does. If he wants to correct some of my stories let him get his own blog! Ha Ha.

We were talking in the office the other day about how things were when we were growing up. I was telling them about the time that my brother and I went down to the river behind our house in South Charleston, well it wasn’t right behind our house but we went down to the river ok! There used to be some locks across the river at this spot but that was before my time. All that was left were the poles and some metal on them. Inside of the poles there was a raft that some of the older guys in the neighborhood had built. You could stand on the raft and walk while holding onto the poles, some were upright and some were horizontal. These you had to duck under as you walked the raft back and forth. Well things were going real well till I learned that the raft wasn’t as long as I thought. The next thing I know I was waist deep in the river,hanging onto one of the horizontal poles,not knowing how to swim. My brother was still on the raft and brought it back to me so I could climb back on. While we were heading home we made up the story that we would tell our parents. When Dad seen me he knew from the smellthat we had been in the river, the river really smelled back then, he wanted to know what had happened. We told him a bunch of guys had thrown me in the river. I don’t think he believed either of us. All he said was that he better not catch us playing around the river or he would bust our asses. We never went down to that raft again.

Once we either heard about or read about someone making a big slingshot and shooting rocks at cars. Well being country boys at heart we decided to build our own. We made it out of a small tree about five feet high. We tied bicycle inner tubes on the Y part and we were in business. You might wonder what we shot at. Tow boats on the river! Since the river bank was where the thing was located. We didn’t shoot at the boat itself but at the coal barges. I don’t recall if we ever hit any but that slingshot would probably send a fist sized rock 300 yards or more. It was a lot of fun till one day we heard some police sirens. We didn’t know if they were coming for us or not but we took off and again we never went back to that place.

We used to build wagons. We built some that were quiet fast and some that didn’t last to long. Now that I think of it I can’t remember what ever happened to the wagons after we got tired of them or winter started. I do remember Dad telling us to quit wasting his nails that we used to hold the axels on to the two by fours. What with some of the places that we rode these contraptions it’s a wonder that either of us are still here.
Another time we were riding tricycles down the hill on the main road just past rock lake pool. The one I was on had a squeak in the front wheel. When I would start down the hill it would go squeak, squeak, squeak, by the time I got to the bottom the sound was squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek. This sure was fun for a couple of teenagers!

I think this is enough for now. Don’t worry I have plenty more. No matter how ridiculous some of these or future stories sound, let me assure you they are as truthful as my feeble mind can remember them. Maybe next time I will tell you how it was to sleep in the same bed with him till we were 11 or 12 years old. Whooee!