 The short stories on this site mean a lot to me. They reflect a more innocent time, hopefully in a humorous manner, before video games, DVDs, wide screen televisions, and other devices that conspire to keep the younger ones indoors. The boys of Northwood knew that all adventures took place outside of the front door. The warm summer breeze and the icy winter winds held us equally in their sway. In Northwood we had alleys, playgrounds and ball fields, shopping centers, and a woods within walking distance.
I sometimes think it was a magical place. A place where time was a traveling companion who would wait with you as you grew up, and not rush you along as it does today.
But for now the years have graciously parted, just far enough for me to squeeze through. Better hurry if you want to come along. Youth is an impatient time, it won't wait for long.
I had just turned 11 in 1958. In early 1966, I turned 19. In that same year I enlisted in the Army. I didn't know that when I left for boot camp the morning of July 14th, that I would never again set foot in the house where I grew up.
These stories are about that house, the neighborhood, the friends, and the culture of those times.
Enjoy!
Randy Mixter
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