We lived just a hundred yards or so up this road on the right.
A tiny house where 4 brothers shared the same bedroom...stacked on top of each other like cord wood...two bunk beds for sleeping and two dressers to stuff our clothes into. Personal space was at a premium.
The neighborhood matriarch, Margret Miller, ruled her subjects with and iron hand. The Millers lived across the road on the hillside and occasionally Margret would make an appearance on her front porch and let out a belch like a sailor that would echo across the valley for several minutes just to let everyone know she was still in charge. Margret Miller was old then....but to a 12 year old 35 was ancient. She is still living BTW.....in that same house......ruling the neighborhood with that same firm hand. Some things never change.
Four Burkhart boys, four Travis kids and two Miller boys made up the usual suspects and there was sometimes a few occasional stray kids that made their way into the fray.
In the hot summer days Margret would frequently announce that she would be taking all of the neighborhood kids swimming.
That was the highlight of my summer days....I just loved it.
We would all grab our towels and anything else that we wanted to take and she would lead us like the Pied Piper down the road to the swimming hole in Duck Creek.
And this is that same swimming hole as it looks today...........
And it looked exactly the same 45 years ago. Yep....some things never change.