One of my all-time favorite television shows was “Dennis the Menace.” Even as a little boy, I could relate to him. On the TV show, Dennis Mitchell had good intentions, but he always seemed to get into a jam that brought on some undesired results. Often, the next door neighbor became the victim of Dennis’ misfortunes.
Living in a small town, I was free to roam the neighborhood, as long as I looked both ways when I crossed the street. I believe the truth of the matter was I was told to stay in my own backyard, but I was hard to contain. I played in neighbor’s back yards, the woods, and a nearby field. I would dress similarly to Dennis Mitchell with a short sleeve cotton shirt and blue denim overalls.
A small stream ran through our backyard as well as our neighbor’s. Mom called it a “branch’, and my Dad called it a “drainage ditch”. I called it a “creek”. I can still hear Mom’s warnings not to play in the branch…
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