Blast From the Past
Today I received an email from youngest daughter asking me if I remembered a friend of my eldest son's from long ago when both were in grammar school and Cub Scouts named Lydell. I not only remember Lydell, I also remembered his last name, Marsh. As it happens, this now grown-up man plays keyboard for a Christian Rock Band that's been playing at my daughter's church. He told the pastor he thought he knew her, called her the carrot-top (she has red hair) and said he played at our house all the time when he was growing up. Lydell was a skinny black kid. We lived in this marvelous mixed racial neighborhood during the 60s and 70s. I ate chitterlings for the first time at his house when visiting his mom. Of course we were all poor, but we'd all managed to buy houses for little down. I was PTA president at the grammar school for two years. I remember one of the black mom's telling me, "All you white PTA ladies look alike." Made me laugh. Our kids didn't see ...