Monthly Archives: December 2005

My Winchester ’73 – Part II

[Spoilers herein: Read Part I first] There are moments in a boy’s life – generally summer or autumn evening moments –when he is walking home alone, worn to his essence at the end of a day’s all-out play, his heart … Continue reading

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The Night I Saw Santa

Ah yes, the night I saw Santa. Each Christmas eve, I remember, Mom and Dad would set out coffee and donuts for Santa to scarf down complacently after unloading everything except my Red Ryder BB gun. I remember I gave … Continue reading

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Santa Says Hello

Every year at about this time, we get out the boxes of Christmas decorations, and every year at about this time I receive a gift from the ghost of Christmas past. For some reason I am always surprised, even though … Continue reading

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Life on the Hudson

From 1863 to 1948, the Hudson River Day Line transported passengers along the Hudson River to points between New York City and Albany. Known for the elegance and speed of its steamboats, the Day Line was a popular way to … Continue reading

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Being Software

As navigator and colleague in those autumnal sorties, I should add to the aforegoing a key technological discovery on our part that enabled the clean getaways whence we could safely turn and watch our flamework: we somehow discovered that we … Continue reading

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The Firebombing of Mapleridge Avenue

Yes, Bob, your slingshot legacy stands unchallenged, near as I can tell. Had we been born into an Indian village as we so often dreamed, you would have had an honored seat in the sweat lodge, right up there alongside … Continue reading

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Hey, Wild Bob, wait for me!

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My Winchester ’73

For a kid with no Red Ryder BB gun, defenseless in the world, there was only one recourse. I don’t remember specifically who my hero was , that nameless elder gentleman somewhere one summer (I salute him now, where he … Continue reading

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Injun-uity

The Adventure of the Flying Deer took place, as I recall, in the woods behind Graceland Cemetery, not far from Bowley’s [sp?] Hill, (another child-famous place, then soon to be under the Thruway), site of the Snow Crust Incident and … Continue reading

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Crossing Delaware

We were such brave warriors back then, prepared at the first hint of danger to strap on a six-gun, slap on some war paint, dust off the sling shot, and march into battle. We never knew where the next deadly … Continue reading

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Ghost in the Glass

Under that bridge across the Normanskill was where I first heard the word “television,” at the same time as I saw my very first television, which looked something like the one at left, a 1949 model. Must have been around … Continue reading

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Our Own Private Oz

The Yellow Brick Road, the old Delaware Turnpike, runs south from the hamlet of Normansville to Elsmere, and was abandoned in 1863. We took it over in 1951. The two bridges over the Normanskill Creek can be seen below, where … Continue reading

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Not the Yellow Brick Road, the Other One

I think it might have been Speed Harris. His mother would have killed me if she’d known, but I think he survived pretty much unscathed since he somehow landed on me and eventually became a lawyer, so she never found … Continue reading

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The Gun that Won the Imagination

Mick you did it again, you did it again, you always do that: you stick one magic phrase somewhere innocuously in the middle of your post somewhere for me to find and it evokes a rush back to wells of … Continue reading

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Graceland

Yeah, I remember Graceland Cemetery. Elvis’ ghost still hovers at the gate, I hear. You may also remember Paul, the caretaker’s son, who one Christmas morning sat and shot out every one of the ornaments on their Christmas tree with … Continue reading

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The Newspaper of the Living Dead

You forgot to mention one other place on that route, Mick: At last we’ve got some weather I can call cold, I who grew up in upstate New York just south of the north pole where winter weather meant daggery … Continue reading

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The Prince and the Papers

I remember those long, delicious evenings buried in piles of comic books, then loading them into the wagon for the trek home, where the marathon would soon begin. After reading Captain Midnight, Plastic Man and Batman late into the night, … Continue reading

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Comic Frames

Oh the magic of comics – hard-bought with pennies gathered from little tasks and errands – how those bright pages could fill a kidmind… and then the delight on later rainy days of phoning other comic-laden kids to find somebody … Continue reading

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Captain Marvel Eyebrows

As a kid I would always hear from a certain person, slightly older than me, that I had eyebrows just like Captain Marvel, and though it made me feel a bit self-conscious, I secretly turned it into a link with … Continue reading

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Iceberg Looming

Funny, I remember the Fellini scene as well, with the ice looming up before me. I may have been on a tricycle but don’t remember. My head had a way of finding hard objects, though, so I may have been … Continue reading

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Sometimes Never

I was 7, you were right around 6. So much, so much to bounce off of in these photos I haven’t seen in sometimes 50 years, sometimes never. I remember your constant double black eyes, how all the grownups used … Continue reading

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Improbable Wizards

The Blog Brothers at Pat Villani’s birthday party, 1948.

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