Have y’all ever noticed how memories can just pop in your head for no reason?  I was sitting at work the other day and just started laughing.  Of course the guys here thought I had lost my mind.  I guess that’s part true.  I love to be reminded of childhood years, no matter how the memory comes to me.  I’m still not sure what made me think of this.

I can not remember a time when the Pound boys were not around.  There were so many of them.  Brothers and cousins.  My sister kept them when they were young.  We all went to church together.  I loved to play with them.  Brian, one of the younger cousins, was close to my age.  I would go with my brother to visit one of his friends, Hank.  Brian would be there playing with Hank’s younger brother, Ricky.  The three of us would play cops and robbers.  For some reason I was always the damsel in distress.  They would tie me up in the tree house and blindfold me.  Then one would heroically rescue me  while “fighting” the other.  It was fun…. guess I had no choice since I was the only girl in the community at the time.  This was not the memory I planned to share… see how things just pop into my head.

Travis was always around when we were younger.  I seriously think my mom tried to trade me for him.  No way I was the baby girl!  There is no way she would have done that. Is there? 

When my dad had his second leg removed he had to spend a few months in a hospital close to Memphis.  Every weekend we would visit.  This was way before the roads were four lanes.  Those of you close to this area probably can remember how curvy the roads were.  The worst part of the entire trip was the drive.  I especially hated the section of the road by “Pumpkin Hill”.  It was just one big curve after another. 

Travis always wanted to go with us.  Because, as I mentioned before he was always around, my mom would let him.  We would sit in the back seat and play cards. Go Fish, Old Maid, or any other game we could come up with to kill time.  This one time he didn’t want to play cards.  He wanted to drive.  Drive?  What?  No way my mama was letting that happen.  Wrong.  She did. 

His driver’s license were fresh in his pocket and he was ready.  I was scared.  His seat was pushed just as close to the dash as he could get it.  He sat straight as a board in the seat.  I bet if we still had that car you could see the indention his hands made from the grip he had on the steering wheel.  I’m not kidding. 

Since the highway wasn’t four-lane yet, all the eighteen wheelers had to take this same route.  This road was always busy.  There was no way to pass a slow driver on this road because of all the curves.  I kid you not, it was a scary road. 

Travis was being extremely careful. He wasn’t swerving or riding the yellow lines.  He was actually doing pretty good except he was going way under the speed limit. By way under the speed limit, I mean like 40-45!   Traffic was backed up for at least a mile.  Again, I’m not exaggerating.  My mom would tell him to speed up a little.  He’d grip the steering wheel harder and give the old car some more gas.  We’d be going good for a while then he’d start to slow down again.  When we got to “Pumpkin Hill” there was an eighteen wheeler right on our bumper.  I could see the driver’s nose hair.  He was that close.  My mom was beginning to get a little nervous.  She told him to pull over when he could to let some of the traffic pass.  A few minutes down the road he did.  I think he had all the driving he needed for that day.  He let my mom drive the rest of the way home.  I was glad.  He climbed in the back seat with me and we played our usual card games until we got home.  I promised myself I’d never ride with him again.  That didn’t happen.  The next time we went he was driving again.    I still don’t know what my mama was thinking!