Snow fell on most of Arkansas last week and, of course, it was accompanied by smiles on faces of school children throughout the state. The statewide news reports depicting kids of all ages building snowmen and having snowball fights brought back memories of snows long gone from the slopes of the levee surrounding Newport. This snowfall coupled with the lighting of the torch to open the 2002 Winter Olympic games currently gracing our television screens took my imagination back forty years or so.
While snow in Arkansas is not rare by any means, any accumulation of snow on this part of the globe is special enough to remember on film. I will bet that if you go to your old shoeboxes full of photographs from your days as a "pup," you will find pictures from holidays, birthdays and snowfalls. Of course I rummaged through some of old photos and in the midst I found some that sparked memories of snowfalls long melted away. The earliest one found was of my mother, my sister, our neighbor and oft babysitter Elise "She-She" Runyan, little dog Blackie, and me. We were all bundled up in heavy coats and mittens (except for Blackie) posing on a snow blanketed front yard of 412 Hazel Street, circa 1957. Later ones were of me with friends Donnie Washam and an unnamed snowman in front of the old Silver Moon as well as me with friend Donny Appleton throwing snowballs down on South Main Street.
These aging snapshots solidified some melting memories of wintry days in my hometown. I can "see" young aspiring Olympians participating in the Newport version of the "luge on the levee" in the early '60s. Few had real sleds in those days. Makeshift toboggans were crafted of wood scraps from building projects and tops from garbage cans with handles removed. We were even known to make good use of cafeteria trays as sledding devices. Efforts to stand up and ski down the snow covered levee slopes on these tray "skis" were never successful.
In the bend of the levee immediately behind David Sibley's house at the end of Walnut Street there was a wide ditch often filled with water. When snow would come our way, this water-filled ditch would freeze over and make for a nice bobsled run at the bottom of the levee. Of course in our "neck of the woods" the ice would typically be pretty thin and a "sled" manned by several kids could often result in a bunch of wet sledders. No real danger prevailed because the ditch wasn't very deep. Nothing but fun on the levee.
Last week's snow was a typical Arkansas snow. Fun while it lasted. Three or four inches on the ground for twenty four hours. All that remained the second day after the snowfall were the bellies of a few snowmen built while the flakes were still falling. Almost as quickly as the snowflakes fell, they started melting. Memories may melt away too, but the events of today can stir up the sweet memories of days long gone. Simple happenings like snow on the ground for a single day can bring back visions of Ann Gardner, David Sibley, Donny Appleton, Jenetta Ashley, Kenny Thaxton, and so many more huddled together on a home made sled barreling down the levee. It didn't take long for all to be scurrying to any house in the neighborhood down by the levee to warm up with hot chocolate prepared by the "Mom of the hour."
Snow balls flying. Red cheeks divided by big smiles.
Snowmen growing from the snow covered ground.
Frozen mittens. Laughter all around.
The experience of "down levee sledding" in Newport during the late '50s and early '60s didn't prepare any of us for the down hill skiing events we can see this week on television as part of the 2002 Winter Olympics, but it sure was fun. I can still hear the laughter of young playmates. But such days melt away hastily in Arkansas.
So what! When it happened in 1962, we would just trade in the store-bought and man-made sleds for cardboard boxes and continue our slides down the levee. The best "sledding" boxes were those with a wax finish that made them more sturdy and faster. I believe many of these waxed boxes came from Purdy's Flower Shop just a block from the levee on Walnut. When the snow melts quickly in 2002, we can remember the rides on the cardboard boxes and listen for the fading laughter. Each new snowfall can salvage melting memories. Each new day creates opportunities for more memories.
Since our most recent "visit" on the day the New Year began, I have been enjoying a time of reflection. So many of you have contacted me with good wishes and wonderful thoughts. Two "old Dogs" of the Tuckerman Bulldog variety took me on a couple of short road trips during the past month. Mike Turner called me up and carried me to the Razorback versus South Carolina basketball game in Fayetteville. We were accompanied by Spanky Smith and met Mike's son, Robert, and my daughter, Emily, for dinner at the Hofbrau prior to the game. While the Hogs stumbled on the court, we had a great time together reliving some moments of laughing out loud in Jackson County in years past.
Last week, Greg Hubbard invited me to join him at "the track" just up the road in Hot Springs. "The track" being Oaklawn Park, of course. We had a fun day of watching the ponies run and visiting with one of those young Greypups, Burt Newell, who was seated in a box near us. We also ran into a couple of other horse enthusiasts from Jackson County, Howard Lynn Felts and Bob Penix, taking in the afternoon action at Oaklawn. Our modest wagers paid acceptable dividends and a good time was had by all. Thanks to Mike and Greg for creating some more memories for future consumption.
I want to pass along birthday wishes to Freeman Travis, Mike Stephens, Ricky Wiggins, Greer Guinn, Jim Reid Holden, and Mr. Potato Head who have all joined "Club 50" so far this year. I am certain there are others who have become eligible for AARP membership already in 2002 whose "big days" are not registered upon my book of memories, so I wish a resounding Happy 50th Birthday to those not mentioned. I will be joining you in that elite "club" soon enough. I must say, at 50, Mr. Potato Head still has the virility of a young spud.
I also want to exercise a point of personal privilege to express my appreciation to all who correspond with me concerning your impressions of and thoughts provoked by the Miles' Files. My joyous reward is hearing from you and learning of your lives since your school days spent in Newport. Many respondents come to me because someone else has forwarded a copy of the Miles' Files to them and others get to me through seeing the Miles' Files on the Newport High School website. Regardless of the route, I am thrilled each time I receive mail from an old friend with an update of "what's happening now" or a new friend with similar hometown experiences.
Over the past few weeks I have received special messages from Bill Lewis (Class of '63) who lived across Hazel Street from me in the late '50s and is now serving our country in Sinai, Egypt; Roger Erwin (Class of '68) who served in the Air Force until retirement and is now assisting veterans in Rapid City, South Dakota; Brenda Hemenway (Class of '65) whose message brought me fond memories of Buddy's Market (her dad's business); and Coy Womble who was a member of the Class of '66, but who moved away from Newport and my South Main neighborhood in 1962. Coy later graduated from Sylvan Hills High School and eventually married Jane Deaton (Class of '68). They are now living in Birmingham, Alabama. The howls and barking messages from these "old Hound dogs" and their running buddies will forever keep memories of Newport posted on the marquee of my mind. I can't wait until the next message from an unexpected" lost dog" arrives.
Direct recipients of the Miles' Files now total 68 members of the Class of 1970 (with David Churchman recently registering on the NHS website) and 117 other "Dogs of Yore" including former NHS students and friends. Harriet Brantley Lane, our web mistress, tells me that 1,235 former NHS students are presently registered on the website and all have an address on Memory Lane. Melting memories? I think not.
While memories may have the propensity to melt like ice cubes in a tumbler filled with a fine single malt scotch, one can always mix another drink and the memories will reappear in the bottom of the glass. Or if memories melt like an Arkansas snowfall, all one must do is patiently await the next snow (and return to the cardboard boxes for sledding on the green grass of Spring, Summer and Fall until the season for snow returns). And if memories seem to melt like the hearts of young lovers, simply look deep into the eyes of the one you love and melting memories are sure to take on the alluring character of a dripping candle; not really melting, but assuming a new form. I'm sure Cupid's arrows now resting in his quiver will deliver a happy Valentine's Day later this week to all young Pups and old Hounds everywhere.
Use the website to reconnect with old friends. It is truly a place for friendships lost and found. Remember that some "old dogs" could be lonely or ailing and just waiting for an old friend from the kennel to reappear. Led Zeppelin's song "Friends" (on the album Led Zeppelin III, 1970) contains these lyrics,
"Mmm, I'm telling you now,
the greatest thing you can ever do now,
Is trade a smile with someone who's blue now,
"It's very easy just ..."
I'll finish those words. "It's very easy just ... send an old friend an e-mail or give them a call." It's easy, you can find them on the NHS website.
Melting memories? No way!
I'm still on life's journey, Miles from nowhere ...
joe
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