Life was in the slow lane, but was good.
I remember the time I went to “the ole swimming hole” on my bike (peddle power only) and decided to give my girl friend a ride home. Remember we only wore shoes during school, so I was barefoot. She was on the seat and I stood up peddling.
We came across a rise in the road and started down, my foot slipped off the peddle, and I fell on the road, she fell on top of the bicycle on top of me.
Up over the rise came a BIG car (they were big then) and slammed on his brakes so not to hit us.
The nice man jumped out of his car to make sure we weren’t hurt. He got my friend and the bike off me to discover that my ankle was bleeding profusely, the sprocket had cut my ankle.
I was told by my Mother “Do not take a ride with strangers” and no matter what he said I said, “NO.”
He begged and pleaded to het me to let him help me. But if you knew my Mother, you knew her word was LAW! There was no way I was getting in that car.
Finally, over all my objections and after a lot scratching and hitting , he got me into his car. My friend told him where I lived and he took me home.
I was taken to “Ole Doctor Taylor’s office” and he did the stitches in his office. No emergency, or hospital!
I was supposed to be on crutches all summer long , we were so poor, my Dad make me a pair. I was so ashamed of them that I would conveniently “forget” them and hobble around.
I was also told not to go swimming in Lake Wassookeg Lake so not to get infection if the wound, however I “fell in” on nearly every occasionally got near the water.
I remember hobbling like crazy trying to stay out of Doc Taylor’s eyesight on Fourth of July. I neglected to bring my handy dandy crutches, and Doc Taylor knew ALL of his patients.
Those were the good old days. It is so sad that we will never see them again. Now it is a Corporate Medical Business!