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Thursday, July 6, 2006
Lost my youth but not the memories…or the scrapes!
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
I am remembering Independence Day celebrations from my youth, growing up on the Gwinnett side of the Lockridge Forest subdivision.
Summertime was always a special time at Lockridge Forest.
The swim team was wrapping up, and the pool was always filled with kids running around half naked in our Speedos (I apologize now for leaving that image in your head).
The adults would bring the volleyball net out, and for their 15 minutes of adult swim bliss, contentious battles were fought, both with the volleyball and with their beverages.
A watermelon was always greased later in the afternoon and the kids wrestled it (and each other) out of the pool. Eggs were tossed and we dove for change. Sometimes there were burgers and hot dogs. Sometimes, a pig cooked in a pit all night long, attended to by the fathers in the neighborhood.
Every year, at night, there was a fireworks show. Tom Griffith lived in our neighborhood. He was a fire chief, or an assistant fire chief - well, whatever the title, he was a pretty big guy, at least to a kid my size - so we had our permits and official representation and all that good stuff. I don’t know how the fireworks compared to others out there, but I always thought they were spectacular. Each year was better than the previous one.
Every year since I was six, this was our Independence Day. Lockridge Forest, located off of off of Winter’s Chapel Road, was a great place in which to be a kid, in which to have a lot of good friends, and in which to grow up.
I am reminded of this now for three reasons:
During this 4th of July vacation, I am in Charleston with my friend Kevin and his wife Beth. Kevin is a de facto Lockridge gang member. Though he didn’t grow up in Lockridge, our gang has known him since we were 11 or 12. He has earned the title by attrition. We are going flounder fishing, maybe some good beach time, and a round of Go Karts if we can squeeze it in. My point is, even though I’m in another state, I’m still close to home.
Independence Day is a day to sit back and remind ourselves of how good we as Americans have it. Our parents, their parents, and generations before them worked very hard to ensure what we have today. Let us never forget that we must give as good as we have gotten, and we must pass that sense of obligation onto our children.
I seem to have regressed a bit into my childhood. I don’t know what possessed me, but I decided to play softball with my company team. It’s been great fun, and I play with a bunch of fun people. I have been painfully reminded that my body is no longer 25, no matter what my mind says. I had a good wipe out last Thursday, scraped up my leg pretty good. I’ve been in considerable pain ever since. I somehow don’t remember the many skinned knees, scrapes and bruises acquired in my youth hurting quite as much as this one.
Ah, yes, these last couple of days, I have become reacquainted with a striking reminder of my youth:
Bactine.
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