Overheard
In the spring of 1927, when I was 11, I played baseball in a pasture near my friend’s home. We used stones for bases, and if the ball landed in a cow-pie, we called a time out so we could clean it.
When a family moved to a house near our “ball field” two boys and a little blonde girl came over one day and said they wanted to play.
We said oka...
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