This is my post for #freewrite Friday prompt race car hosted by @mariannewest
In the 1960s the bridge that crossed the Indian River in Wabasso used to be wooden, at the center was a drawl bridge, a one-armed man ran it. It went for two miles. Every time we crossed it my Dad thought he was a race car driver. He would go so fast, I don't know if we were going airborne or what, but it felt like our stomachs were in our throats, Dad would laugh every time we yelled weeeeeeee. I can still hear the sound the car made as we went across it. That was the only bridge and it caught fire several times. When it caught fire, we did not go to school, no we did not set it on fire. Today it is concrete, I miss the old bridge.
I asked Danny at the fish house if there was anything they were buying and he told me they were buying jacks, so I spent all day yesterday changing things over and making new rigs and quills to catch jacks. I got up early today and fished til 4:30, I never caught a jack. I was up the creek and I saw plenty of bull sharks and I saw six spinner sharks jump, they are not supposed to be up there, crazy.
I am not sure what the real name of this is but we call it hair. It is what we make quills out of.
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sorry but I do not play any games
I. believe you that you didn't set the bridge on fire :) That must have been quite the ride!!
Thinking about the rides across the bridge still brings a smile to me and I can still hear my Dad laughing.
It's funny how dads take chances and do assorted crazy things. My dad drove circumspectly, but I remember my mom telling about how he let my sister play on the scaffolding when he was building the barn, and she was sure my sister would fall and break an arm, or worse.
My Dad did all sorts of things that would be fronded on today and he built all sorts of things for us to play on, like zip lines. But he tossed a swing set out to the middle of what we called the muddy water because my younger sister jumped off the top of the slide and busted her head open.