Sunday, April 16, 2006

The Self-Sacrifice Story

This is the house from across the river. After I was born, my parents bought a house on what is now Riverview Road in Gill, Massachusetts - when I lived there it was called Bridge Street. We lived right across from the river and spent a good many a day sitting on the pier fishing. For this story, I was about seven years old. There aren't too many stories I could tell about living there in Gill. I remember dropping rocks from the rock wall on my toes. I also remember a bull frog that used to live in our back yard. One time, I looked in its hole that it lived in and it lashed it's tongue out at me! Yikes! Then there are other blurs, like looking at the engine of our blue hatchback with my dad, launching my bottle rocket, getting fish hooked by my brother in our drive way and when the bus driver left me off at my house but my mom thought I was going to be dropped off at the bus stop I was picked up at. This story and when I dropped off to an empty house are my most vivid memories living there. I couldn't tell you the day, thats not important to the story any way, but one day my father, brother and I walked up Riverview Road to the Mobil Station that is on Route 2. I think we may have been going to buy worms or something. As we were crossing the street, my father and brother were in front of me. I stumbled on something and tripped in the middle of the road. They were already past the double yellows and nearly to the other side when my father looked back and saw me still lying there in the road, crying. I waved at him and yelled , "Go back. Leave me here, save yourself!" He shook his head, told my brother to continue on to the other side and came over to get me. We made our purchases and, with me in the front this time, crossed the road then walked back to our house. Fin.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ladies and Gentlemen...

He lives to tell another story!
We applaude your fathers heroics and honor him with this esteemed medal.

I haven't named it yet!

Sacrifice is a hard word to say for me. I end up saying safrik-ice every freaking time.

Garg.