Still Believe in Dragons

Human growth and development are two of life's processes.  While still above ground, it is probably a good activity.  For most families, a child turning 13 is one of these special growth points.  Development is often a option.  Such is the case for my family.

My oldest grandson (Sam) is turning 13!  His growth and development has been amazing, and I am sure that there is much more to come.  Mom (my oldest daughter) requested all send to Sam some thoughts about this life event from our own experiences, and she would read them to Sam during his 13th Birthday Party.  This was mine :

"Hey Sam...Happy...Happy...Happy 13th Birthday. Bet you thought this day would never arrive, but here it is after 13 years of preparation.  I have enclosed a drawing you sent me some years back containing all the love your little heart could muster.  Now I am sending it back to you with all the love that this old, gray bearded heart can muster.  A special drawing it is to remind you that no matter what age you are and become...it is still O.K. to believe in dragons."

This drawing was sent some 5 years past, and I still enjoy this dragon.

Sam's Dragon

Thoughts and ideas come and go.  Something in the mind produces these activities which often help organize a belief or opinion.  Creativity is frequently a result, and human expression comes into existence.  The power to imagine...what a deal!

When the thought of "Grandpa" comes to mind what ideas enter the arena.  For each of us these may be a variety of memories and emotions.  Some may be good, and some may be bad.  For my eight year old grandson the follow is one expression.

"Dear Grandpa" it begins.  "I hope you enjoy this dragon." it goes on to say.  " Love, Sam." is the ending.  A wonderful dragon it is Sam!  I love it.  Grandpa...:-)).

No more Dragons

My dad, mom, older brother and I made up my childhood home at 25 Vine Street. We moved there even before my mind could remember, which I believe was around 1954. This was before color T.V., air conditioners, rotary phones, and imagine this, even before computers, cell phones, i-pods, and blogs! Wow! How in the world did we survive growing up with such deprivation.

You could get to 25 Vine Street from Main Street in two ways. One was to take a right onto East Broadway, and the other was to take a right onto Washington Street. Either way, you would have to cross the railroad tracks before you would come to Vine Street. Just before you would reach the tracks on Broadway you would have to pass the Winchester Stock Yards. For me, this was an amazing place, full of cows, pigs, sheep, bulls, and horses. For most every one else, it was a place of smells that you would try to avoid at all cost!

Now if you came from town using Washington Street, you passed over the tracks using the viaduct. This was another architectural wonder that arched over two sets of tracks. It was constructed using some form of cement that contained tiny pebbles, compacted so tightly that you had to work very hard to get any pebble loose. At the top of the arch, the road narrowed to exactly two car widths, making it appear very, very narrow. The side walk only passed on the left side coming from Main to Vine Street. A concrete barrier blocked you from falling into the gully below. The arch was always a fun place to stand when a train passed underneath. I only remember watching diesel engines pass with their three circular exhausts fuming, leaving the air wavy and hot. They made a solid, continuous, almost humming sound. Not like the black dragons, those steam engines who's chug, chug, chug seemed to move everything around them. The smells changed from that of burning coal, to that of burning diesel, although what followed the diesel engines remained the same, miles and miles of coal cars. Watching these diesels pass, I often felt a little sad. Where did all the dragons go?