The 1940s, Main Street, Caseyville Illinois
I remember our house was small and sat at the top of a hill adjacent to a flowing creek. Every time my Dad drove our black ’32 Dodge sedan up the hill to that house I remember experiencing a keen sense of fear … what if we tipped over and rolled down the embankment and into the creek! Was that possible? Did my Dad know what he was doing? Clutching and all the maneuvering? Rain, snow, ice, muddy slushy ruts ~ up/down/up/down. Might this have launched my lifelong fear of heights, of water? My 'always' position in the car … back seat, passenger side … facing the creek, teetering on the edge as we traveled uphill. I suspect my younger sisters, one in the middle, one on driver’s side never noticed the creek or that steep incline. Strong swimmers, no fear of heights. Case closed.
come rain or come shine
an optical illusion
childhood fantasy