Organized and official little league games were played on several grade school diamonds. The sponsors of each team were local businesses which included taverns and lumber yards and restaurants. Official game evenings were attended by most parents and reluctant brothers and sisters of the ball star. It was kind of a forced attendance for those not in the game.

   

My family had a mutt dog named Ted who liked to watch the action. Our only car was a 1955 Ford with its muffler missing. We traveled slowly to games burning oil from the back of a weak engine. A low trail of blue smoke followed us killing most mosquitoes on the journey. Ted ran behind us in the blue smoke and somehow was able to keep barking the whole way to the ball game. Other dogs of various points along the streets would join in and chase Ted...usually four to five would arrive barking all at once and begin fighting on the infield. Confused by our blue smoke inhalation, the dogs turned against one another. Parents jumped out of their folding chairs and started ranting many unheeded commands to dogs that they didn’t even know...not very effective. Random parents did not know how to communicate to random dogs. But the teams of kids did. Kids know dog language and names. They lived on the street with the dogs in the summer. A no brainer for a kid!  

   

So kids restored order and the first pitch was thrown—usually a fast ball high and outside by three feet. All the batters took a hefty swing at it just to loosen up a bit and it gave the pitcher another two throws to strike the first batter out. It was considered good form to not hit the ball at the beginning of the game. No sense keeping the game past sunset. We had no field lights!

   

In other town news... The Harold Johnson boy (Johnny) drove Harold’s Desoto to call on Miss Mary Jones—daughter of Frank and Fredonia Jones—last Saturday at noon for a lunch and gorgeous day in Henry. Johnny returned safely by 5pm same day so his parents could go to a Tupperware party that evening. Johnny had to stop at Sparland to add a quart of oil in the car which Harold greatly appreciated.

   

Stay tuned for even more exciting adventure news next issue. Hint…it’s about having not one stoplight in Chillicothe. Yikes!!!!