Memory is a funny thing.
Recollections slip in and out and around in time leaving plenty of room to weave and backtrack. and drift and glide.
In my life, I've found that memories of the spirit linger and sweeten long after memories of the brain have faded. My fondest memories are of my childhood days back in Yazoo, Mississippi.
I can still see the town now. Ten thousand souls, and nothing doing.Where the old men sat drowsily in straw-bottom chairs watching the big cars with out-of-state plates whip by.
Drivers hardly knowing and certainly not caring what place this was. There was a war going on then.And it touched our lives every day. War, President Roosevelt reminded us required everybody to make sacrifices. And boy, we did.
The cotton grew tall that year, the summer of 1942, but I sure didn't.
Matter of fact, I stayed so small and puny..l was a target for the nei…