Growing up

My red, white and blue ABA prize basketball would splat in a puddle in my driveway during a drive to the basket. The familiar noise instantly caused me to lower my hand to pick up the subsequent short bounce.

Then in the distance on the horizon across the valley, I heard another familiar sound. I picked up my dribble and stared north toward the rail spur in the distance. I could see the green and yellow cars of the Peabody Coal train snaking across the living canopy.

The track was several miles away, but I had a clear view across the way. Always loved trains. The track was beyond my yard, the woods where we played, over Park Street, Wilcox Grocery, past U.S. 431 in the direction of Owensboro, the big city. It was a mural that sprang to life when the whistle blew. I stared in wonder.

I loved it.

It’s but one memory that is etched in my mind of growing up in Central City, Ky.

I am tapping into that vast well of reminiscence to write about that place and time.

The sledding, camp outs, schoolyards, gymnasiums, Broad Street, railyards nearby, band shows, playing in the reclaimed strip mine land, Green River — I want to capture the essence of that place because it is so special to me and many others.

I hope to have a draft in a year or so.

If you grew up in CC, it will be a special read.

If you did not, it will shadow times from that period in your lives when every day seemingly meant something, feeding and shaping your impending adulthood and who you would become.

Central City was and is a special place.