A couple of months ago I was awake in the middle of the night and a melody came to me. When i woke up I decided that memories of childhood would ge well with the melody.
So I dredged up some fun and fond reminiscences of growing up on Cornell Drive in Bartlesville. But "Cornell Drive" had the wrong number of syllables to match the repetetition at the end of each line, so instead my golden land of memories is named Pennington Hill.
The name of our housing addition is Pennington Hills.
Anyway, I sent my mom a copy, describing it to her as a love letter to the wonderful childhood she and Dad had provided me.
I didn't know she was going to send it in to the newspaper!
Anyway, please feel free to remember, if you can, a time when everybody knew everybody and you could roam the neighborhood freely, even after dark. Because all Mom had to do was throw the window up and shout your name down the hill.