by Jack Daley

Created on: August 07, 2009

" Good Times in the City"

Me and my twin brother, Jackie, had some really good times in the city. We were like best friends, and did everything together. About the only thing we disagreed on was school. Jackie thought that that was the place to be. That learning to read and write and that kind of stuff was the most fun. For me, the only place to be was out on the streets. "That's where the real learning takes place. That's where you can have real fun." I always told him.

We started hitting the pavement as soon as we were old enough to walk. I remember, at first, it was only to the grocery store across the street. Man, I loved that place.... Even in the hot summer, it's like cool and shady inside. There's a mixture of spice and sweet bread odor that will knock you out. They had this big barrel with dill pickles, a nickel apiece, potato chips in a big tin bucket ten cents a pound, donuts two bits a dozen, Mrs. Smith pies. And they would let you run up a tab until Friday if they knew you.

Soon, we were walking passed the shoemaker shop, beyond the watermelon man, all the way to the railroad tracks on Sixth Street. Man, we were some wild little Tigers back in those days. We spent a lot of time down by the tracks. There was like a freight station there where they stored empty boxcars. About eight sets of tracks. Both passengers and freights ran by.

Saturday, after the movies, we'd always head for the Sixth Street tracks. I remember these sword fighting movies, The Three Musketeers, and Zorro. Many times, the serial that ran each week was sword fighting too. We made swords out of wood. We use to fight on top of the empties. We'd jump from car to car. I always wanted to be one of the goodies. When we played cowboys and Indians, though, I always wanted to be an Indian.

Whenever a train went by, we'd stop our play and watch. Sometimes, it was a long slow freight. You could hear the clickity clack of the wheels. And, as my father told me a hundred times, those wheels would cut your legs off just like tree stumps if you fell under them. Maybe that's why we never carried out our plans for hopping one sometime when they slow down for the curve on the other side of the station. Once, when nobody else was there, Jackie did hop one and rode it to Columbia Avenue. At least he told us that, but no one really believed him. The railroad guy

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