I have it, bad,for a long time. I didn,t relise i had it until the day at the bowling alley. I think i was 12. Two young police recruits came in and were throwing their weight around. I didn,t like it. My neighbors in the Baptist Assembly Grounds across the street. Suposedly we were invited over--but not really. they had established a dump filling in a swamp,right between them and us...You remember the ramstads? Myra, Myrna,Carol,Doug MIke and bobby. We were the ones that stole (according to you) your garden hose? I,ll never forget you driving down our road to collect your hose. We had tied it to a tree and were using it to tarzan off our railroad right-of-way driveway a 1/4 mile long. You jumped out of your truck demanding your hose. But before you did, you waanted to give it a try. Just one time.
I,m 68 now,i,ve had at least 68 belly laughs,remembering your fat ass sailing through the air--hose breaking. We could hardly hide our glee! The rage has continued without debate , all these years.
When i was 12, I saw my support payment $12 dollars for each of us. That's what the US gov,t thought i was worth. and paid to discharge their duty to my father and mother. That's what we were worth. No wonder the people in the Assembly Grounds thought they were better, they were. Their Dads had returned.. Mine had not. America thought i was worth 12$. I gradually realized that the people i was pledging allegiance too were my fathers killers, and i was supposed to salute..
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