by Toye Gillman

Created on: October 28, 2008

It was a cold, rainy early spring morning in 1964, when I decided to have an adventure. I was always trying to climb trees, hike through the woods, and do many things a two-year-old little girl should not do. After hearing "no" so many times and failing to get permission to do such things, I found a way around them. I used to get up in the wee hours of the morning. As everyone else slept, I would quietly creep out the door, free to do as I pleased.

This story is made up of partial memories of mine, as well as the "campfire" stories subsequently told about this adventure by family members.

It had rained all night, a hard, steady, record-breaking rain for Eastern Missouri. It was still dark, but that did not deter me. I had King, our family dog with me. King was a hefty Bull Mastiff mix. He was a fixture to me. I was always playing with him, giving him candy, and many other things a dog shouldn't have. He also secretly shared his dog food with me, which I'm sure a two-year-old girl shouldn't have. We had our own little secret society. It was a private club, and King and I were the only members.

I do not remember everywhere I went that cold spring morning. I know we must have had some adventure, though, because I was covered from head to toe in mud. I had nothing on but a pair of training pants. After a while, I must have gotten cold, because I vaguely remember shivering and holding on tight to King because he was warm. I remember mud, rushing water, lightening, thunder, sirens, panic ridden voices, and that's about it. The rushing rain had turned our little ditch into a roaring river, which swirled through our back yard. Everything calm and beautiful turned into something dark and scary. It had become quite a treacherous trip for a little girl and her dog.

Through my shivering, my teeth began chattering, making a sound I had never heard in my short life. It scared me, but King told me in his own little way that everything would be fine, and I believed him. Through the sound of my chattering teeth I heard sirens. I remember thinking someone must be robbing the little store down the street and the police were chasing them. Then, mixed in with the sirens, I heard distressed voices and many footsteps.

As King and I made our way back to the house, all I remember is such a feeling of relief at seeing the house and knowing it would be warm and comfortable inside. I wanted to get there the quickest way I knew how, and that was to cross the ditch, which had now become a roaring

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