Somewhere in the universe a tiny blue speck exists. Earth is relatively microscopic, yet it teems with a microcosm of life consisting of plants, animals, people, music, wars, commerce, crime, love, hatred, mountains, seas and small-town streets.
I have the pleasure of living on a small-town street. No sophistication here, just traffic, houses and a cafe across the street. My wife, Lois and I can view Fourth of July fireworks from our front porch. Sometimes a car toots its horn and we don't know who the driver is. People remark, "I love your picket fence," or "your lawn is so lush," and we wonder how they know where we live.
We are mature people in terms of years therefore I can remember Hudsons and Packards that parked in front of hour house as they had coffee across the street. I recall the smell of creosote on the telephone poles that the Michigan Bell utility trucks had. As a teen I played the pinball machines before they were removed in a city-wide raid and smashed to bits by sledge hammers in Carrie Nation fashion. The cafe has had seven different owners since I can recall and that's 58 years of recollection.
The Assembly Of God church was next door and years later became a real estate agency. The gospel of Christ replaced by commerce! Half a block to the west the Methodist Church stands with its ramparts of stone defying the sin of the world. The parsonage gave way to a parking lot, practical, I suppose but I miss seeing the pastor and his family coming and going.
Much of who I am comes from this small-town street.
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