Renita Loyd

When we were younger, we were fearless spirits and lived life to the fullest in spite of our troubles. We spent many days and nights by the railroad tracks at the Sugar Shack.

Yes, it was a bar. And in the minds of many, a tavern and to others a sore spot in their tiny, bible belt town. But to us it was a place to be with friends of all ages. We could listen for hours to the old timers telling stories as they sipped their Blue Ribbon beers and smoked their Prince Albert cigarettes.

There were other days when the young and old alike would bring their instruments in and play music. Every one would sing along and we would dance for hours. One of these young musicians named Bobby but known to many as BC would become Becky's husband someday.

Some of the tales were actual facts and many were a tad fictitious from bits and pieces forgotten, others changed due to the influence of alcohol and some were just a bit comical from things they couldn't remember since growing old.

Regardless, every memory from the shack by the tracks was genuine and meant something to the people that created and lived them. They will be forever with me, especially those of my friend Becky.

We were young and we were as full of dreams as we were piss and vinegar (at least that's what some of the elder folks would say about us). As we grew older, many of our dreams came true, many of them were lost to the past, and yet others altered in ways we had not expected.

One thing we can say is we enjoyed living and we had a wonderful time. Laughing at the folks howling with laughter over the jokes someone would tell that, we never actually understood but got a kick from those odd bits of humor, anyway.

I remember one time when I was a bit older, there weren't very many adults in and they let me drink some beer. Being sixteen and not used to the effects of alcoholic beverages can be an experience in itself but this was in the middle of a cold, snowy winter. Well, needless to say, as blitzed as I was, I ended up accepting a ride toward Glenville with a guy going to The Cove, a nightclub outside our college town. In a blink, you’d miss the town called Sand Fork. Before we’d even gone a mile he pulled off at Roadside Park on the left, which sadly no longer exists, and puked all over himself. This led to a chain reaction because I gagged and threw up, too. He was slumped over the steering wheel moaning and ready to pass out, so I turned off the ignition as he requested and left.

It was snowing hard and I could not get the puke off my jeans so I took them off and thrashed them about in the snow trying to clean them, tossed them over my arm and started walking up the hill to the main road in my sweater top, knee-high boots and blue coat with white fur trim. I had hit the main road and walked approximately a quarter mile when a dude named Hump pulled up and asked me if I needed a ride. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, as I stood there half-undressed and covered in snow. I told him my house was only about 3/4 mile so I could walk home.

He told me to hop in, that he was afraid I'd get frostbite, so I did. A few days later, he said he really wanted to take advantage of that moment but it was too unforgettable and he didn't want to ruin it. I thanked him for being a gentleman. Silently, I also thanked God for looking out for me during that reckless teenage moment, which could have had several different endings and affected me forever.

I hope sharing this "was my face red" period brings a smile to Becky's face and gives everyone a laugh. I can laugh about it now but for the longest time, I cringed.

During our youth, we enjoyed many moments, which remain in my heart and I pray we have the chance to share many more. Our revelry came from the soul and the passion of youth and our history is a mixture of our actions  and reactions to life, our surroundings and what was offered or available to us as teenagers at that time.

Becky, I loved the writers meetings at your home and meeting the other writers, sharing our craft and enjoying the company of fellow writers. I have enjoyed my visits with Robin, our mutual friend and I admire you for all you have dreamed, all you have accomplished, all you have become, all that you are and all you will be.

Here's to the many more moments, many more hours, many more days, and many more years we will share and remember someday when we have a writers meeting and instead of drinking soda or coffee, we will be taking Geritol and sipping hot tea.

Copyright © 2007 by Renita Loyd

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