Sliding by
One bright, sunny day in the spring of 1969 my Mother made the short pilgrimage to see Aunt Nora and our cousins. The sky was that sort of blue that almost sparkled. The fluffy white clouds drifted through the azure expanse with the soothing motions that spring brings to winter-hardened hearts. The air was cool with a hint of warmth. The soft earth felt spongy under our tennis shoes. Our Dad was in Vietnam and my three younger brothers and I lived with Mom in Brown City, Michigan. Mom grew up in Brown City and all her local Aunts, Uncles and Cousins provided emotional support during a hard year. Aunt Nora and Uncle Dwight were our source of milk. Aunt Nora would have given us the milk, but Mom insisted on paying for it. We boys loved the outings to Aunt Nora's house. Not only did our Aunt feed us fresh bread and butter, she always provided homemade jam. So this glorious spring day promised fun and joy, as well as some delicious food. One of us, probably Barry, discovered a slick p