Arts, Crafts, Music, & Events of Breckinridge County Issue 2, July 2015 | Page 47

Child of Yesteryear
By Lois A. Tanner
I am a child of years gone past, the product of long, dirt
roads that ambled on hot summer days into a world that no
longer is found. I am of the generation of children that sat in
old Desoto, Plymouth, and Dodge vehicles that only went for
weekly excursions to town and church. Unburdened by car
seat and safety belts, we stood on the hump of the
floorboard of the backseat until we finally grew enough that
we were forced to sit down on the seat. We, depending upon
our mood of the day, tried to be or not to be nearest the back
passenger door, knowing fully that whoever sat there was
responsible to open the old rickety gate found at the end of
each dirt road before you entered the gravel road. As we
traveled down the road in summer, with all the windows
rolled down, as most cars of our day had no air conditioning,
we let the wind blow our hair anyway it pleased. We would
leanas far out the windows as we dared, when our mothers
were not looking, and let the dust clouds settle their grime
upon our faces. We could taste the dry, dirty grit of the road
on our tongues. If we were especially lucky, we had frozen ice
cubes of Kool Aid in our mouths while we traveled down the
first few miles. Our mom would holler from their perch
beside our Dad on the front seat, “You all better cut that out