THEY CALL IT PROGRESS,  I CALL IT SOMETHING ELSE

I sit here on a cold blustery morning and as is so often the case,  my mind wonders back to a simpler time.  A time when there were no bills,  no ills and no pills to take every day.  My biggest concern back then was who was going to join the rest of the neighborhood kids up at "THE FIELD".  Oh "THE FIELD"......  It was our  (the neighborhood kid's) field of dreams.  At the time it was as big as Ponce de Leon ballpark, but in reality it was probably 175 feet by 175 feet.  No matter the size,  size really didn't matter,  it was where legends were made,  dreams came true and although I didn't realize it at the time lessons were learned.  The field was just part of a city block that for some reason had never been developed.  It fronted Winter Avenue on the east,  Leland Terrace  on the west and Park Place on the south.  I knew it had to be an important field because Park Place was right beside the Boardwalk on the Monopoly Board.  On one corner of the block was what we called the Little Store.  It was just a little neighborhood store where we always went to buy candy and whatever else our moms would send us after.  It was also where I learned my first entrepreneurial skills.  I learn very early on that I could comb the back alleys for empty Coke bottles and take them to the Little Store and trade them for money and with this money I could buy  candy.  As you can see,  I learned about the pleasures of life at an early age.   Yes,  life was simple and the bottle business was good. 

Right next to the Little Store was a restaurant called the College Inn Restaurant.  You see the north side of the block, where our field of dreams was, had been developed. There were these two businesses along with a Pure Gasoline Station and these three business faced College Avenue. It was called College Avenue because about two miles down the road was Agnes Scott College. I ride by this area pretty often nowadays but it's all changed.. Oh sure, most of the houses are still there and the streets are still there but the field and the businesses have been replaced by a Marta Station. Rapid transit they call it... Progress they say.... It's for the betterment of the people they tell me
 ... I beg to differ..... Part of whats wrong today is Rapid Transit. Seems like we're trying to get everywhere and do everthing to fast. We're trying to get our children grown to fast. I learned more at that field and The Little Store and the Pure Gasoline Station and The College Inn Restaurant than I bet anyone has ever learned on a Marta Train. I learned that it's good to create your own entertainment. I learned about teamwork and competition. I learned about fair play. I discovered that I could learn from the older kids and I learned that when I got older I needed to be patient with the younger kids. At the Pure Gasoline Station I learned it was a good thing to take time with a young child and to not just tell him what you were doing to fix a car but to show him. I learned what "Full Service" meant and that it wasn't a bad or demeaning thing to get dirty while working and earning a living. And ohhh the things I learned at The College Inn Restaurant. The restaurant wasn't just a sit down restaurant but also a drive-in restaurant. You could pull your car in the back, park under the awning, and Ol' Henry would come out, take your order and have your food to you before the first inning was over. You see, the parking lot backed right up to our field. Ol' Henry was what we called the "Curb Boy". The Varsity calls them "Red Caps" but to us Ol' Henry was just a "Curb Boy". At the time, I thought Ol' Henry was an older man but looking back now I would guess O' Henry was 19 or 20 years old. On those hot days when the sun would beat down on us, Ol' Henry would call for us to come on up and get us a drink. He would buy us all a coke and he taught us how to sit and rock on a coke crate. If I close my eyes I can still hear Ol' Henry telling us a story or talking about a catch one of us had made in the field or how far one of us kids had hit the ball, all the time laughing from the depths of his belly. When it was cold weather we would gather in a little shack they had built for Ol' Henry on the back of the restaurant to get out of the cold. Again we would grab us a coke crate, sit down around a little wood stove, rock and listen with smiles on our faces as Ol' Henry told us his stories. I don't think I ever knew a happier soul than Ol' Henry. He was color blind, he enjoyed his work, he shared his wealth, and yes, looking back he was a very wealthy young man, and he loved life. Ol' Henry was one of the first people to teach me that riches aren't to be measured in material things and people shouldn't be judged by the color of their skin.

Yep...They call it progress.... They can dig up the field.... They can tear down the old businesses and the can build something new and shiny, but they can never take away the memories and the lessons learned and they can never take away the laughter that I can still hear coming from the depths of Ol' Henry's belly. Oh the memories we've built. Just something to think about......................................................