1981 The moment I had been anticipating for years was almost upon me! The sickly amber glow of the tunnel lights flashed by as I contorted my neck in as many ways possible to see how close we were to the tunnel’s exit. The color of the tunnel began to slightly change as we drew… Read More Two Tales of a City- Pt. 1
1974 The boundaries that my mom had set for me had been removed by the spring of ’74. I now had a free pass to ride my bike all over Beverly Heights. I now had more friends to ride and play with than ever before. Some of us dared to venture over to Bradford Park… Read More The Nudists- Epilogue
I took a long, deep breath then started to pull myself up to finally get a full look at the woman in the pool. But just as I started to make neighborhood history, I heard Tommy and Johnny bickering in whispered voices. Horrified, I looked down at them to see what was going on between… Read More The Nudists: NOOOOOOO!
The three of us agreed that the only way we were going to see inside the fence wasn’t from underneath or through a peephole, but from over the top. Though we quickly agreed on what we had to do, it took longer for us to agree on how to do it. Tommy suggested climbing a… Read More The Nudists: Blonde Hair and the Voice of an Angel
It was readily apparent to all of us that what was now required was someone with a military-like background who was capable of planning and executing a strategy that took into account the lay of the land and the size and inexperience of our group. The only kid in our group who fit that description… Read More The Nudists: OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!
One day in the summer of ’72 a few of us boys were riding our bikes up and down Sarasota Drive. We’d ride from Tommy’s house down to Nebo Road and back, occasionally riding up “The Hill” (as we called it) as far as the Johnson and Jones households, the one-time imaginary boundary between our… Read More The Nudists: The Privacy Fence
The spring of 1972 was a doozy for my allergies. By the time I was nine years old, my allergies and I were becoming old friends. They’d come around a couple of times every year to reacquaint themselves with me and make my life a living hell. Mom and I would do our best to… Read More The Nudists: Thank you, Hugh Hefner!