WASA by Mike Quinn

Life as a young person in Woodsdale seems as far away as Jupiter. the things that happened in Woodsdale seem like remembering tribal rituals from another planet. Young people on the planet Woodsdale were incessant explorers always seeking the unknown. The unknown was everywhere. The United States has NASA, but Woodsdale had WASA (Woodsdale Aliens Seeking Adventure). The farthest reach of the galaxy from Poplar Avenue was somewhere in the extreme environment of Stratford Hill. WASA "idiot-or-nots" were well-equipped with all the left over WW II material that could be found in attics in the neighborhood. The young explorers would head to the hill with bayonets, canteens, and machetes strapped to their sides. Big Rock was the first major find outside the terrestial limits of the paved streets. I can remember sitting on the rock eating what was then space food....peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sitting on the rock the young explorers talked about how the chief of the Stratford Indians used to sit on the rock with the tribe below him and make great proclamations, such as "All Indians must be home before dark".
As we got older we pushed the limit of the known univers clear to the old cistern that was part of the original Stratford Hill Hotel. One night when were were older we actually slept in that cistern and shot mice all night with a BB gun.
Back in the settled part of the universe the idiot-or-nots explored every known nook and cranny of the the old houses in the neighborhood. Inevitably our small band of boys nested. The nests were under the porches. Each of the old houses had a little door somewhere that allowed access under the porch. Whoever built the house must have known that at some point young boys would need a place to smoke cigars, look at Playboy magazine and plot to get into trouble. The person who built the porches did not provide for lighting, so candles were the main source of light. By some miracle we never burned a house down.
Sorry to say that the meeting places were well-stocked with cigars and cigarettes provded courtesy of the Drug Store. A certain member of the gang [Chris Hile] had no hesitation to relieve "Doc Hanger" of all the cigars we needed. I remember referring to the old pharmacist as "Doc Hanger" because either Doc or the customer would always greet one another by saying "How's it hanging"? Judging by the amount of smoking we did it is amazing on one had cancer by the age of twelve.
I am sure my father must have known what was going on under our back porch. One day I can remember sitting under the porch smoking when the kitchen door opened. My father stepped outside to give a soliliquy. His words were "It sure smells smoky out here, some day I will have to look and see where all that smoke is coming from." We all felt like we had been shot at and missed.
If there was a hole, we were in it. If there was a culvert or a tunnel, we went thru it. If there was a tree, we went up it. Climbing on the roof didn't bother us a bit. We ruined a lot of expensive slate roofs. The drop from the gutters on our roof to the ground was about 50 ft. One day sitting near the peak of the roof on our house, the piece of slate I was sitting on came loose and like a sled propelled me down to the gutter. With certainty I thought I was going over. By a miracle, I managed to stop myself in the old fashion wide gutter. If it had been a modern home, I would be a foot shorter to this day, or have my head peeking out of a small hole in my blue jeans.