1916

As I drove south on Crooks road, I did something that I always do as I pass Walnut street. I looked east toward Marywood street. 1916 Marywood. That is where my Grandma and Grandpa Taylor lived. The small house that was theirs was torn down for a small mansion to be built in its place. The garage had received the same treatment. At a glance, I saw the garage door was open. It looked like the old days to me and it really brought back some fond memories. Maybe my Grandpa had just arrived home from his job selling cars at Stark-Hickey Ford.

I wanted to go back and drive by but I knew the feeling would be gone as I looked at the lifeless mansion. So I held onto my glance and thought about J D and Leona Taylor. These were my Mom's parents. We used to all get together on Saturday and Sunday nights to watch Hee-Haw and Lawrence Welk. I guess my sister and I were mostly bored while we were there. I remember when I could hear the "we're getting ready to leave" tone in my parents' voice. I was always very ready to leave. Then, they would start talking about a new subject and the tone would go away for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, we would leave and the mile drive home would feel like it took about an hour. I would have given just about anything to stop by today and watch television with them again. Grandma Taylor until the day she died, loved Wheel Of Fortune. I would gladly turn back the hands of time for one of those nights as well.



I turned east onto 12 mile road. Tomorrow is garbage day and as I drove along, I saw an old card table leaning against a tiny tree. It's once white covering now very dirty and gray was torn in a few places and flapping in the gentle breeze. I wondered what kind of action it had seen. Endless games of Scrabble, Yahtzee, Old Maid and Monoploy. It could have been the kids table at countless Thanksgivings. A garage sale or two and maybe even some real poker games with guys in dress slacks and "shirt sleeves" smoking cigars and drinking Stroh's beer. Then, maybe a decade or two leaning quietly next to a furnace. Finally off to its final resting place. So long, dirty gray card table. You have had a long and useful life.



I then turned south onto Alexander street. The street I grew up on. I pulled into the driveway.
As I walked to the back door, this mild but crisp mid November night reminded me of the nights when I was maybe ten. You could smell the leaves that people were burning. I missed that smell.