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Then and Now. Just some memories.

posted 8/18/2008 1:23:23 PM |
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  chevymn

Where to start? After taking my girls to the play ground yesterday, by the way the school put in a merry go round, I dicided to take a quick drive through the little town of Waldron. The old high school has been leveled, only a few concrete doorways still stand.Our class walk(a stretch of concrete with all our names in it and a small spot for signatures and drawings) was completly buried under five feet of ruble. I drove by my grandmothers old house, the new owners have replaced the beautiful iron on the front porch with ugly treated 4x4s. The drive in I worked at through my school years is now a pawn shop. My grandfathers old store is vacant and sitting useless. The infamous Corner Mart is still there, but they have painted it aqua blue versus the bright red it used to be. I have noticed two new stop lights there were only two now there is four, there was just one until the mid-ninties. The old phone booth is gone. Seems like everything that I remembered has changed. I was glad to see the old kindergarden building torn down in highschool, nothin' but bad memories of the wall I had to stand against through all those recesses. Seems like everything out here in the country has changed aswell houses gone and abandon, new houses built and of course the trailer houses pulled in. I don't remember things changing this much when I was younger, maybe I just wasn't paying attention. Last but not least my house. I remember how proud I was when I first bought it. I was twenty-one. It was gorgeous,a two story house almost twice the size of my parents house, it was just breath taking inside and out. Now the walls in plaster, the floors naked, all the furniture gone. Feels like I'm starting all over again with less than I had to start with before. I guess this what it's all about. Memories. Some good, some bad. Some still left to make.Just like mistakes.

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Comments:
sloriver

Aug 18 @ 4:09PM  
When I was a boy my grandmother lived in a tiny town in northern Mississippi. We visited her every summer. She had a well, her only source of water before the mains were put in. The well was 6 inches around, just a clay pipe sticking out of the ground with a tube bucket to lower into the well from the pully above, hung on a cross beam, a very simple piece of engineering. The bucket was three feet long and six inges in diameter. It filled through a valve in the bottom. When it was raised dripping from the well pipe it was held over a two gallon bucket and a ring in the tip was pulled to release the water back through the valve on the bottom. My grandmother's house was torn down in the late sixties but that well stood there with the same galvanized bucket for any thursty traveler to use all through the ninties. I visited the old home site last year and the well was finally gone. It had stood, a monument to my boyhood, for over 50 years. Seeing that old well gone with it's charming old bucket and it's cool water was a gut blow. In the end, we have to rely on memories because the world changes around us. That old well still stands in my memory, along with the diving board on the lake and the treehoouse in the woods. We never know what will be important to us in later years. it's too bad we don't know what to take photos of.
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Then and Now. Just some memories.