by Roger

Kay's driveway tales reminded me of a couple things.

That driveway, with its stand of trees near the road, was another special place for me.   Well, it was the way to Grandma and Grandpa's after all.   I used to have sleep dreams about being there among those trees not so many years ago.

Besides it being a special place, there was an incident on the driveway involving Uncle Clarence and me.   I was about eight -- old enough to know that I had blazing speed -- was the fastest kid in my grade school class -- but not old enough to realize that I wasn't faster than all the adults.

Mom and Dad, Clarence and Harriet, Grandpa and Grandma and I were out in the yard near the kitchen door. I challenged Clarence to a foot race down to the end of the driveway and back.   He accepted.

Off we raced down the driveway.   I was in front all the way, Clarence on my heels.   I made my quick turn at the street, but before I could take more than a running step back up the driveway Clarence had taken his greased lightning turn and was off again at an astonishing speed.   The image of his instantaneous and powerful acceleration is tatooed on my brain.   I didn't bother taking another step.   (just burst into tears.)

I always liked Uncle Clarence, and after that race, I was in awe of him as well.




          Rex, Roger, 53 Plymouth, Grandpa, 54 Olds


From Roger's email:

Clarence had Rex and Trigger when the younger three were around.   I rode on Rex in the Paulson living room once.   I remember that he was eight at the time.   We would always see Rex and Trigger running across the pasture between the two farms on the "dog trail" whenever we all rode in the car from one farm to the other.   Those dogs knew where we were headed.   And of course the trail continued on through the woods bordering Clarence's place.   We hiked it as well.




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