In the beginning
| The Entrance now days |
| The Exit |
Stitches
The pipes in the pic above still make me cringe. On the very first day we moved to Nederland in the second grade I cut my foot in the drainage ditch on a piece of glass. I think I needed stitches as I still have a nasty scar but Momma and Daddy just butterflied it and dumped a gallon of mecuricome on it. The second time and involving the pic above was my nastiest incident with the ditch. Everybody else had shoes on and I was barefooted. So me being the gallant man I am I volunteered to go down in it first to see how deep the mud was. Well it turned out to be about 2 foot deep! Everything was fine until my buddy hollered that I was bleeding. I looked down to see my blood boiling out and being carried by the current. They say that I came out of that ditch and hopped home all on one leg! Well it turned out that it was a triangle shaped piece of glass and it went clean through my foot. 50 something stitches in all inside and out. The drainage ditch had won this battle but I would be back for more!
The Clubhouse
The clubhouse was located in the backyard of the Ritters house off of 17th Street. The bush's in their backyard were very thick to say the least. We all had "borrowed" tools of the trade for making our clubhouse. Complete with axes, saws, picks, and shovels we proceeded to destroy the bush's from the drainage ditch/levee backside. We carved out a complete middle section with only one very small opening barely visible. There we had us a headquarters for waging our wars and a hiding spot from our mischievous ways! We had the bright idea one day to dam up the drainage ditch. So we dug a huge hole down the side of the drainage ditch creating a huge foxhole and damming up the drainage ditch in the process. Well apparently a city worker discovered it as our dam was doing its job pretty damn well! Pun intended! Needless to say we were the ones who had to un-dam it. Now there is a concept for you. Kids repairing the damage they caused. Anyway we started getting older and our attention turned somewhat towards the ladies. A page out of a Playboy book was treated like gold to say the least! We had a zip lock baggie full of one page pics. I fell in love with more than one maiden that is for sure! If we were to have the luck of someone stealing there Dads stash and come away with a complete book then words cannot even describe the days of pure joy that lay ahead! But the books and pics would get damp and we would have to carefully pull them apart like performing brain surgery! When I took the pic up above I was straining to see some remnant of our days at the clubhouse. Some hole in the ground or perhaps if I was lucky an old stash box with some photos of the ladies or an old baseball card. But there was nothing visible. Perhaps buried along with all the other memories. But if I listened real closely I could hear boys laughing in the wind.
| We would ride our bikes on these "sidewalks" and out on the wall. The pipe was made for crossing! |
OMG!! I remember the drainage ditch! Me and Philip Sweeney...and ya'll would go there and hide to smoke in the big pipe!
ReplyDeleteGreat Blog David!
What were we smoking? Refresh my memory again! RIP Phillip.
ReplyDeleteGreat blog David!! I remember riding my bike through those drainage ditches everday in the summer and through out the year. Paul Quavus and I and a few other friends, would race up and down the sides. It was GRRRRReat!!
ReplyDeleteLaura
Thanks Laura! I enjoyed writing it! Glad you got to enjoy the Nederland ditches too! Great friends and great memories!
ReplyDeleteLove it David! I still remember Kevin Honeycutt calling me a sewer rat after one of the trips over there.
ReplyDeleteLove it! You bring back some great memories!
ReplyDeleteGreat blog David.....we did the same things....but around 31st area. Me and Margie Knight hid and smoked cigarettes she'd steal from her parents and we'd catch polly-wogs. I was always afraid the pipes would crack if I was in one when a car went over on 31st. Then Momma would tell me I smelled like an ash tray & a garbage can and I would argue that night that I didn't need a bath. Oh the good ole' days.
ReplyDeleteDianne
Man, I had my first real Kiss in one of those ditches off 31st. Gosh David, you write really well & I can tell you love it. Just like your cooking. Moni Hopper
ReplyDeleteThanks for the memories!
ReplyDeleteBest childhood ever!