Tag Archives: Summer fun

THE ELEPHANT WALK

9 Jun

SUNDAY MEMORIES

 Judy Wills

 

JUDY

                                                     

 2When I was a small child, we lived in Dallas, Texas.  My mother’s mother and father lived in San Antonio, so it was probably a short ride (about four hours in today’s time) for a trip to visit with Granny and Grandpa.  I have many pictures of my brother and me in Granny’s yard.  They lived in the country, so there were lots of animals – particularly peacocks, cats and dogs.  Interesting times.

 Mother told me once that, as I was sitting on Granny’s back step, they heard me scream and then cry out.  When they rushed to see what was the matter – they discovered that the peacock had plucked my peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of my hand, and I was furious!

 San Antonio has a lot to offer – whether you are living there or just visiting.  And we 3found that one of the best zoos in this country is in San Antonio.  I actually remember visiting there often.  Remember – we moved from Texas to New Mexico when I was just four years old – so that is a long memory!  But one memory that has stayed with me for a very long time, is the elephant ride we took.  I have pictures of my brother and me on one of the elephants.
4While I don’t know whether or not the San Antonio Zoo still offers those elephant rides, I do know the zoo was still offering elephant rides when our girls were young and we were living in San Antonio.  I have pictures of both our girls – along with me – on an elephant ride.  I’m not sure Janet remembers that ride – she was pretty young – but I’m pretty sure that Karen does.

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Apparently an elephant ride isn’t such an uncommon event.  Fred’s sister and her husband took a trip to Africa not too long ago, and they took an elephant ride, as well!

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It’s always been interesting to me just what my mind has stored away.  But it only takes a comment, or a picture, to bring an event back into focus.  And the elephant ride of my childhood stands out as a grand event.

A Boy, A Bike and Summer

15 Aug

 

 

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

 

 

 

The summer between my junior and senior years of high school I was itching to get away from home and explore the freedom of the open road.  How I talked my parents into letting me go on this wild idea of a trip I’ll never know, but they finally agreed and all was set.  They were not about to help me with this plan, but that was okay with me as I had my own money and transportation.  I loaded everything I thought I might need for a one-month stay into one small suitcase, strapped it onto the back of my 1955 Harley Davidson motorcycle and off I went.

 

 

 

The place I had chosen for this trip was about 185 miles from my home and was known for its moneymaking oil industry.  The plan was to get a job as a roustabout on an oilrig, make lots of money, and come home after a month or two and show my folks that I could do it on my own.  Well, as you might expect, the plan didn’t work out exactly as I had envisioned it.

 

 

 

 

I made the trip in good time and found a place to stay.  The next day I went to the oil company employment office to ask for a job.  The guy at the desk almost laughed out loud when he took a look at this 6’0” 125 lb. kid who thought he was going to tough-it-out on the oil rigs with those experienced 200+ lb. oil rig brutes.  Besides that, they couldn’t hire anyone under 18 years old, and I would have to prove that I was that old.  So there I was only two days into my great adventure, with no job and no way to pay for my lodgings, but I wasn’t ready to go home with my tail between my legs, either.

 

I don’t remember all the places I looked for work, but I ended up packing fruit in a terribly hot and dusty fruit processing plant for minimum wage (what a let down).

I have no idea how it happened, but a local church family took pity on me and charged me very little for room and board to stay in one of their extra rooms. At some point, I met the pastor’s daughter and her friends so I spent a lot of my off hours running around with them. The legal drinking age was 21 at that time, so that also helped keep me out of trouble.  When the fruit picking/packing season ran out there were no more jobs to be had for a skinny teenager, so I packed up my few things, loaded my motorcycle in the empty 18 wheeler trailer that was going my way, and was delivered back to my home a little wiser and a lot more tired than when I left.

 

What did I learn from this adventure? I learned to listen to my parents’ advice before I ran off to try and do my own thing.

 

 

 

Ephesians 6:1