No Opening Handle in the Back Seat of a Police Car

Oops!

Chester Slay was a buddy and competitor all the way through 12 years of school. He lived on Cleveland Street about two miles to the south east of us. We played together, were in Boy Scouts and DeMolay together and went to North End Baptist together. We are still friends although the 100 miles between Beaumont and Richmond limits our connectedness.

In the summer of 1959 we decided to ‘camp out’ in our back yard. We had a couple of old army cots and we ran a rope between two trees and threw an old tarp over the rope to create a tent.

We had flash lights and canteens with water. I am sure we had some form of snacks. As dusk was falling, dad issued the edict, ‘I don’t want to hear that back door opening and closing all night long.’

We laughed, told stories, shined our flashlights and generally goofed around --- forever.