Summary
As I sit on my back porch listening to a train pass through town, the melody of the train whistle on an October evening directs my thoughts back to a time when I was a kid living on 8th Street in Boonville.
It was a cool fall evening, but still warm enough to leave the windows openSee the full content of this document
Extract
Oh, to Hear That Pop-Pop-Pop of Spots Again
I was probably 10 or 12 years old, and I could hear gunshots off in the distance sounding with the cadence of popcorn.
I was listening to the reports of the Thursday night spot ...See the full content of this document
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