Memories.

I remember things in living color, and I can go back to see the picture in my head. I don’t know what you call this. I can see the Ford my dad had.  It had a step to get up into the car. It was black, and Dad kept if for a little while. Then he traded it. We could go up the creeks in a jeep. Dad bought one, and he traded in his black Ford.

We spent many hours singing as we went to the different churches my Dad was in charge of. Some met once a month, and he had to go up the creek in the jeep to get to the church. We went with him. It was Sunday, and we went early enough to get there on time. Riding in the creek was a thriller. We didn’t know that the jeep couldn’t turn over. mother kept us entertained, and we often sang as we went up the rocky creek. The water was rarely deep. We would find the church, stay for the service, and then go on to another church. Dad left Kentucky with us, because the post he was serving had 9 churches. He felt it needed to be divided, and no one listened. So he left so they would do this. They did.

Kentucky was a wonderful place for us to play. We loved the Fall leaves, the creek that was close to the house, and go over the high hills to a neighbor’s home. There was flooding in the area, and we survived. We girls played in the yard, while my baby sister stayed in the house with Mom. I believe we were in heaven in those years. We loved chasing the boys, and playing games such as hide and go seek. It was the beginning of my determination years to save my memory. I saved every one I could, and at times even my dreams.

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