I remember that at an early age I was frightened of the mice mascots at The Organ Grinder. Eventually I grew out of that. The memories of it being a treat to go to Bob's Big Boy when it resided on SE 82nd and Raymond, which subsequently was across the street from The Organ Grinder. One place that forever will be ingrained into my memory however is Kern Park. Outside of the Pacific Ocean, the National Forests of Oregon and my own house and yard, I have early, very great memories of that park. As cliché as it sounds, that is an entire post all on it's own.
|Age 2 at Kern Park looking like a cross between Oliver Twist and a greaser.|
It's weird to look at it now, my neighborhood. To see the changes through grown eyes seems like an injustice to the memories of my younger years here. I also know that things change, they come and go. What use would a memory be after all if everything was still the same? Nothing.
|One of the many alley ways by my old house. Good memories of tag and "guns" in this alley in particular.|
|Many tokens, time and memories here. Now it is a Super King Buffet or something.|
Thanks for coming by. Until next time.