How Memories Come Out
Some things lend themselves more readily to nostalgia than others, and when we see them we are immediately transported to our past for a brief moment to relive an experience. For some it is an old car, train, friend, or even an artilce of clothing from their past.

For instance I have a picture of a 49 Cadillac Convertable hanging on my wall, along with pictures of ships I served on, and some old trains.  I never owned a 49 Cadillac, but a friend I knew in the Navy did, and I fell in love with it, and have always wanted one.   It is one of the things on my list to buy in the highly unlikely event that I ever get enough money. I can’t help but think of those old trains of my youth every time I cross the tracks on Emmitt Avenue either, because they were so much a part of life in Sedalia when I was a kid. Those smoke belching coal burners that rumbled through town at all hours of the day and night back then were hard to ignore. They were especially hard to ignore for the housewife who had just hung white sheets on the line that now displayed little spots of soot. It was about the only time mom would use strong language.

Cadillacs and trains are fun to think about, but I believe the best memories pop up when I meet an old friend by chance at a store, a gas station or a resturaunt. I run into Beryl McCoy more than anyone from my past these days, mainly because there aren’t as many of us as there was at one time. Beryl will always remind me of those days when we lived next door to each other, and the things we did back then. Many of which we would never tell our mothers. When I ran into John Closser not long ago it brought me the memory of John’s parents old Packard that we would take the drag in on those occaisions he could borrow it. The stately old car was not John’s dream car, but it was wheels and for the guys who were allowed to ride with him like me it was as good as a Cadillac. One of the things I remember about the car, was the only time John could get its tires to squeal was on the inclined entrance to Garsts Drive Inn. John finally got his own cool car, and I noticed that day he still has one from that era.

The Movie Theaters are another source of my memories. Not long ago I covered the ground breaking ceremony at the Liberty Center for the new addition  to the theater. When I walked into the lobby of the old theater I felt a little chill, that usually accompanies a nostalgic feeling. I mentioned to someone at the ceremony that my friends and I snuck into that theater more than any other when we were kids, thanks to the young ushers the theater employed who were usually away from the door flirting with the concession stand girls.

As my childhood days get farther away I know I am forgetting some great memories, but every once in a while something will happen that makes them flood back in. I look forward to those times, and cherish them.