Youth: a tale of the ’40s told by an 11-year-old, signifying nothing . . .

Part One, Derring-do in the twilight.

From the pages of BLITHE SPIRIT, A Weekly Commentary, May 8, 1996, Two Cents and worth it.
We had a grand time dumping ash cans. It was Friday night. We crawled
up and tied twine to cans on third floors of apartment buildings, then tiptoed
down taking the twine with us. Then we took the twine out behind the garage
in the alley and pulled it. Down would come garbage can with a mighty clang-

With luck the yard was paved. Some are like that, more areaway than
yard. When the can hits the pavement, the noise is tremendous. We take off
down the alley. What a blast!

It went like that all night. Bill and Charley and Mel and I, plus
others. . . . .

For the rest go here . . .

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