Chapter 14 Harold Brown Memoir – 1958

January 6, 2019

It was no big deal going from sixth grade to high school. We lived in a small town and the school buildings were on the same block. I knew all the students from the seventh to the twelfth grades. My neighbor, Donald Ray Bryant, was in the ninth grade and I knew he would take care of me if I needed taking care of.

The Hula Hoop and Barbie doll were both introduced. Neither were in the seventh grade with me.

Aunt Loise always sent me fresh baked cookies on Saturday morning. Uncle Robert made his weekly trip into town and part of his assignment was to bring mother milk, eggs, and butter. The milk was fresh from the cow and the butter was churned by Aunt Loise’s own two hands.

Uncle Robert was a happy story telling man. There was nothing that he enjoyed more than telling a good story and fixing things. Communication is not taking turns talking.

I always made sure that those cookies were finished before the day was over. Mother often worked late on Saturday and I usually had those cookies for lunch or supper. I can remember spending the afternoon fishing in Tyson’s pond. As dark would overtake the afternoon, cookies and milk tasted good on the back steps of the house. It was a great time.

Summer was a time for playing baseball and Hamburg had its first organized Little League program. It was a big deal. One night was spent selecting the boys that each coach wanted. For some reason Tommy’s father didn’t have him on his team. I always thought it was because fathers were not allowed to have their son play for them. As I think about it, my coach, Howard Timmons had his son! Dollars were given to each coach in the form of points and player were selected. Times couldn’t have been better.

A typical Fall Saturday would find me raking the leaves from the yard to the ditch. It took all day to get those pecan leaves from one spot to another and I soon discovered that the local radio station broadcast the Arkansas Razorback football games for my diversion. I would hook my gray portable Hatachie radio to the clothes line and listen to Lance Alworth score touchdown for the Hogs.

My radio was not in stereo but stereo was introduced this year.

As the pleasant day turned into a cool evening I would put a burning match to those dry leaves and reap the reward of my days work. All those pecans that I had missed picking up got very excited as the heat from the burning leaves caused the shells that housed the meat to explode. What joy it was to eat the roasted pecans that the fire threw out for me. It didn’t affect mother the way it did me. Experience improves judgement and bad judgement gives you experience.

I was part of the high school band and made all the trips with them. We really were one big family. I experienced three different band directors before I graduated from Hamburg High School.

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