The
Comments from the Waterfront by Colleen A. Kelley Ó 2004 Email: cak43@aol.com
What
Once Was Lost Is Now Found – A Fathers Day Story
(Colleen
A. Kelley © 2004)
As a kid, I lost a few
items. Actually, my father took them away from me. They were cool things,
everything a kid needs to complete the growing up process. These items can even
be carried over into grown-up-hood and used on the next level.
As a kid, I was an avid
backyard / park golfer. I had a
I built an early,
amateur version of a combination pitch and putt and miniature golf course in my
back yard. I constructed a small sand trap and water hazard in one corner of
the yard. The sand trap and water hazard somehow joined forces and became a mud
hole. I had a metal trash can cover suspended from the big tree. If I was
lucky, I was able to get the proper loft on a ball and "ring" the
trash can cover. It not only scared the birds and squirrels but it brought my
mother to the window on more than one occasion. I took the clothes line
carousel out of the holder and removed the in ground holding tube. After
planting a small American flag, I had the most envious of all 18th holes -
except on laundry day. Laundry day presented a different kind of golf hazard.
Unless I could manage to hit the ball above, below or around the drying
laundry, the sheets usually ended up with "golf ball dots" on them.
The “fireplace shoot”
was another test of golfing ability. The trick was to hit the ball into the
fireplace without hitting the grate on top or the sides. Even though the target
was about three feet wide and 18 inches high, it was a lot tougher than it
looked. Other golf amenities were the series of empty paint cans to practice
chip shots, the bucket on the fence to practice lift shots and the moving
squirrel shot in hopes of beaning one of those pesky four legged rats in dress
suits and keeping them away from my "golf course". (Editorial
comment: No squirrel was ever hit or otherwise injured during my tenure as golf
pro at this golf course.)
One day while going thru
my golf paces, a neighbor kid, whom I'll call by his initials, MR, came by and
wanted to shoot a round.
I was in the middle of a
very intense practice round and said "Wait until I'm done and then you can
have a turn."
"No, you can play
anytime. I have to go home soon. Let me play now,” he said.
While he was stating his
case, I went back to my practice. As I brought the
My father happened to be
at the window and saw part of the action. He thought I hit MR on purpose. I was
tried and convicted in the time it took my father to come out of the house and
grab my golf clubs. I was never allowed to defend myself.
"You won't be
seeing these any time soon," he said.
"I bet I
will." I thought to myself.
Later that day, my older
brother informed me that MR's mother and father were
mad I hit their kid. They were coming up to see mom and dad. I shook in my
shoes for at least a month. RM's mom and dad never came to the house and this
incident was mentioned again.
MR did get his revenge.
He became a town cop. Once I got my license and had a car, I had more traffic
stops than anyone in town.
Officer MR: "Do you
know what you did?"
Me: "No Officer, I
have no idea."
Officer MR: "Yes,
you do." This statement was always followed by a sly grin.
Fortunately for me, MR
retired after a few years of the police force and I was allowed to drive the
streets surveillance free.
Another item I had, I
found in the woods beyond the baseball field in the park. It was a dream find.
It was something I always wanted and I was the envy of every kid in the
neighborhood for the total of 4 days I had this item. The item I found was an
axe. It wasn't one of those wimpy axes used to chop up twigs around the campfire.
It was of substantial heft and the axe itself was as sharp as a razor blade.
The kid who lost the axe
found out I had it and tried his mighty best to get it back from me.
"Hey, girlie, that
is my axe and you better give it back." He said in his most intimidating
10 year old voice.
"Tough", I
said. "It's mine now."
“It belongs to my father
and he wants it back." the kid said.
"Tell him to come
get it." I answered back.
Neither the kid nor his
father came looking for the axe so chances are; the kid took it without his
father knowing it and the father never knew it was missing.
Most kids in the
neighborhood carried their baseball gloves, tennis racket or basketball with
them. Some even carried jack knives but I carried something better. I carried
my axe. What should I do first with my new found toy?
Now that I had an axe,
it would be silly for me not to put it to use. I and a few others decided some
of the trees in the park needed trimming. Why trim just the branches? We
proceeded to cut the top 8 to 10 feet off the taller trees in the park. Why? I
had an axe so why not? About a dozen trees were trimmed when trimming stopped.
I was about 20 feet up a tree with my axe. I was hanging onto the tree with one
hand and swinging the axe wildly with the other. My last swing of the axe was a
miss of the tree but a direct hit on my leg. As blood dripped all over the
tree, I climbed down as fast as I could. I ran home and into the house. Even
though I denied hitting myself with the axe, mom and dad didn't believe a thing
I was saying. The first thing to go was my axe, still dripping blood.
"You won't be
seeing this axe any time soon,” my father said.
"I bet I
will," I thought to myself.
For a time after that,
if one stood in the playground and looked beyond the basketball court to the
woods, the trees looked like they had a buzz cut.
The kid never got his
axe back. I'd mention his name here but he is know a judge and I'm afraid he'd
declare this case still open and arrest me and throw me in jail.
The third item I found
was also found in the park. Running thru the tall grass I stepped on this item
and stopped to pick it up. It was something I always wanted to have. It was a
hydrant wrench. I bet it would fit the hydrant across the street from my house.
I hung it from my belt and ran around with it pulling my pants down and banging
me on my legs for the rest of the day.
I went home that
afternoon and showed my father what I found.
"I'll take
that" he said, "I have just the home for it. You won't be seeing this
any time soon."
"But I found it,
it's mine," I said.
"You are not to
going to have a hydrant wrench. I know what you will do with it."
my father said.
"What do you think
I'll do with it?" I asked.
"Let's see, you, a
hydrant wrench and a hydrant across the street. Gee, I have no idea what you
would do." Dad said.
My plan was to sneak out
after dark, open the hydrant and then run like hell. But now my plans were
ruined. The best I could do now was find a sledge hammer and smash the hydrant
open. But I never found a sledge hammer.
The years went by and I
never saw those items again. Until my father passed away.
With mom and dad both gone, I could explore all those places I was supposed to
stay out of and those places that I never knew existed. It was then I found my
long lost treasures. The axe had no handle and the golf clubs were rusted. But
the hydrant wrench is in fine shape.
That is all I have to report
at this time.
Colleen A. Kelley Ó 2001 -
2004
Visit The Archives: Who Should Buy The Red
Sox? / Why
Did George Bush Really Run For President? / The PeaPod
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