I try to remember sixth grade, the spring. Tonight on the end of a perfect spring day, in the 70's, fluffy cloudy sky, I thought, what can I write about? I want to go back to some of the memories. One came to mind as I passed the soft ball fields at Buhl Park.
Sherry, whom I became friends with at the beginning of the school year, moved to Chestnut Street, a block down and another block to the left from my house. She lived near the Dairy Queen. Her brother, Dave, was four years older, as was their next door neighbor. The houses teamed with teenage boys, as these two were popular. Our spring evenings found us in Stonebreaker's back yard that stretched to forever, playing baseball. I did enjoy these games for fun. Girls hung out here, too.
I love the evening sun. Staying out later in the evening. This time of year, here in western Pennsylvania, the sun doesn't set till almost nine. We took advantage of that fact, since I still probably had to be in when the street lights came on.
The end of the school year with lovely warm weather kept us outside. The allure of sixteen year old boys also made baseball interesting. Sometimes even the adults joined in. An aunt of the Stonebreaker kids hit a ball or two. Everyone felt safe, because Mr. Stonebreaker was a cop.
I give those boys credit. They showed no interest in the eleven and twelve year old girls. Why should they? They had girls their own age very interested in them. It was a more innocent time.
Other times, we all sat around outside in gliders and lawn chairs, under huge pine trees. Again, adults joined us. We stayed out till the mosquitoes, big and nasty near the creek and swamp, appeared, sucking our blood. They usually waited till the first week of June and dusk. Hurried us all inside.
In the summer, usually Sherry and her sister, Lori, walked me to the corner of Haywood and watched me up the hill. I think I called my parents or they had set a time for me to come home. But I had no fears, we just kept an eye on our friends. The neighbors did, too.