Our old house on Hemlock Street, a street that no longer exists, incorporated into the Wallace Inn, had a high cement porch overlooking the front lawn. OK, well, maybe it was not too high, but to a 5-year-old it was high.
The game of the day was to get on the porch and jump off onto the grass below. My older brother and his friends were barely challenged by this game, but this little boy was petrified. I just knew terrible things were going to happen if I jumped.
Perhaps a broken neck would be my future. I could envision the cast going down my body. Perhaps I would be totally paralyzed and never again play baseball, run,, swim, and live a normal life. Yes, the payback for jumping could be unbearable pain and misery, or, it could be fun.
I am alive to tell yoy that for the most part, it was fun, except for the time that I slipped and hit the cement steps below.OUCH! My advice? Have a little faith and jump.
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