With Liberty and justice for all.....

I guess with age comes “the want to go back”... in time.. Once upon a time, I abhored ideas like Facebook. Divorced, probably (assuredly) depressed, I'd sat my butt too many damn hours in fronta the monitor..Yahoo.. MSN.. Lycos, a host of goofy dating sites.. MySpace... yada yada... As our recent Class Reunion approached, “join Facebook, our class has a page.” NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!.. I want AWAY from this 'addiction', NOT further attached to it.

So, demonstrating weakness as I've so demonstrated over time, I 'joined'.. Redfacedly, very glad I have. Not only instant connection to “Townies”, but college buds, co-workers (present and former), young, old, and of course, loved ones.

The recent “want to go back” included visiting about our first jobs in Liberty, the pay (or lack thereof)... where we lived in town, who we 'ran' with.. what we did...

In summation, Liberty was a damn fine town to grow up in. Hope it still is (wow, the changes).. I still vividly see China Slaughter directing traffic... Ace Thompson's smile.. Topsy... Atkinson's Cab (mom didn't drive, when dad was outta town and we needed groceries).. Bud “Rack 'em Wiggins” Temple..

Years and years of seeing the Football team ride on the Fire Truck in the Homecoming Parade, hoping one day I could be up there.. . Going to Dairy Queen and running into Bobby Bell and Willie Lanier.. Running across Mill Street after a game at Franklin in effort to be first in line for a mug of wonderful Root Beer...

The stately one way streets.. Blacks, whites, dribbling our basketballs to St James to play together, cohesively, all friends... Coffee shops, folks sat and visited. No cell phones, no pagers, no mini-vans, SUV's... time seemingly went slower... appreciated more? You could ride your bike anywhere in town - and your folks knew you'd be ok. ANYWHERE!

A new slew of college kids every August.. Playing racquetball in old Brown Gym, hearing the light rap on the door.. “Mr. Stram would like to play now.”

Walking from the City Park to Franklin after a ballgame for the carnival. Metal baseball cleats (somehow we survived.) I almost didn't that night. Tilt-A-Whirl. Moisture on the grass. The metal cleats. Metal ramp leading to seats. Not a good mix. As I set foot on the metal ramp – I was brought down to my knees by the force of electricity. Had it not been for the quick switch of ride operator Terrell Morley, I would literally have been toast in milliseconds. (I guess it's true, when being electrocuted, one's hair does strange things... 'cause I remember some little girl exclaiming "LOOK AT VICTOR'S HAIR!)

The Ku Ku.. or Cuckoo, heck I don't remember. Don't shoot me Denny. Denny Ray “borrowing” some gas from the station across the street, honking his way up the hill. Well, most of the way up the hill. Unfortunately, he'd 'borrowed' diesel for his car.

Reverends Link and Houston, Grundy, Naomi, Mrs. Sumpter, Bonita, Mayor Thompson, Mr. Vance, Mr. Gant, Rod White, Mrs. Weakley, Mr. Nail (remember the Rain Dances?).. and certain more, just escapes me now. Town fixtures. Population 8,909. <-- seems like that sign was up forever!

Fun was inexpensive. Toppa the hill by the Methodist Church, getting between the spotlights and the church to form 40' tall shadowed images of ourselves as folks watched from the bottom of the hill. Whiffle ball. Indian Ball. Wonderful interruptions in chasing down the ice cream truck.

Kennedy Pool. The Incident. The Plaza Theater.. Junior Mints and popcorn.. Dances in the Basement of the JC's place... Driving to Antioch to get the most recent “40 Star Survey” and later listening to Johnny Dolan count 'em down. Motown. Woodstock.

We were oblivious to 'class'. We played in basements and backyards of any/everyone. Jeans were patched, sack lunches were carried to school.

I am certain across America, towns equally as fitting, fun in the day. I love life, and have had a wonderful one. We lived in Liberty when I was real young... moved away for a few years.. came back.. (I'll never forget, 2nd grade I think, being a newbie... LeRoy Peters, first one to really talk to me, giving me a piece of blue gum on the playground.. if he only knew how good that made me feel to be kinda-sorta accepted)... 6th grade, father got the itch to move again. Sister, then a sophomore, and much like her brother, very tired of making/leaving new friends.. DUG HER FEET IN. PITCHED HIZZY. Proud to say, thanks to her, still here some 51 years later.

Sentiment, emotion is a wonderful thing. If we didn't feel, the hell's the use in even being here. I'm very sentimental about the town I grew up in. To all of the above who are gone – please rest in peace. (Ace, I've STILL got the oriental lettered ring you gave me in High School!).. To all who are still around, I hope your ride in Liberty has been as fun as mine. Love, Victurd.