Mike,
Truly enjoyed your column about small towns. My years may predate you a bit but I can take some of those memories to a next level.
I well remember the parties at the gravel pits, but the real bonanza was when a buddy got the key to his dad’s hunting cabin out in the woods near Roscommon for the weekend.
Drivers training was always in the summer. Of course you had to take this before you could get your permit and license. I was a townie and walked to the class, but the guy who sat next to me in class lived on a farm. He drove his dad’s pickup to the class.
The local postmaster was closing the post office one afternoon and he saw in a late batch of new mail what looked like a birthday car addressed to my mom. He noticed it was from me with the Army Post Office in Vietnam return address. As the mail deliveries had already been completed for the day, he stopped by our house on his way home and gave it to my mom.
If your aunt and uncle who lived over near Detroit came for a weekend visit, the local paper included a mention of it in the column “Out and About with Pearl”. Pearl assembled her well read column by calling people regularly, or by items contributed freely at the grocery store or church social hour.
If you did get to Lansing and went by the McDonalds, you best bring back a whole sack of burgers to share.
Thanks again.
Mark Barrone
Friday, November 22, 2024
