The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Sunday, September 25, 2005

Childhood Souvenirs

I saw this picture this morning in my hometown newspaper. When I saw it, I remembered an old memory that I had long ago tucked back faraway. But, this morning, it was as though it happened last week.

In the house that I grew up in, there was a small little closet underneath the staircase that went up to the attic. It was called "the quiet room." It was my little refuge, my little room of my own, my favorite place in the world. It had a small 100 watt lightbulb and every book we owned. I would go in there and I would just sit and read. I would hide and read.

Well, anyway, there was this one night that I remember that there was a tornado warning for our area. My mom gathered my sister and me up in her arms and we went to the quiet room with a flashlight. We read books in the dark until the storm had passed.

I don't remember exactly where my dad was. I think he might have been working late. I also think that he might have come home to find us hunkered down underneath the stairs and he asked just what in the hell we were doing. I don't know. But I remember being underneath those stairs. And I remember not feeling very scared.

I wish I had a quiet room right about now. Someplace safe, someplace quiet, someplace I could hide and read.

I bet a lot of people around the Gulf Coast wish they did too...


Blogger Drew Caperton said...

Just finished reading about the discipline of silence/solitude this weekend. Seems like your hankering for a quiet place might be worth chasing down. Do you think Pete would mind if you built stairs in the house and put a room underneath it? The stairs wouldn't lead anywhere, they could be your "impression of the pursuit of man" or some artsy fartsy thing like that. Where's my saw?

NOTE: your word verification deal this time spelled something close to a word: "fvageky"

10:19 AM  
Blogger shauna said...

awesome story! i LOVED places like that. . .i loved to sneak around old buildings and find hideouts. . .my old church was awesome. TONS of hiding spots. . gramma's house of course . . . oh to be a kid!

1:21 PM  

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