In the 1950’s I remember a time when neighbor, Frank Benish, spent the day plowing our family farm field, which was no small chore. I also remember going barefoot that day and racing behind his efforts throughout the field with boundless energy. As his tractor pulled out that freshly ground earth my feet took it all in. I don’t think I ever ran so hard or long for any single day of my life.
Since our family field extended from about the public landing to Noreika Road that’s a lot of distance to travel. Plus the field is not pure level so there was the opportunity to do some slight up and down running.
At the end of my day my feet were jet black and I had to wash them off before my grandmother would let me step foot in the house. They got an ice cold reception from our old water pump but boy did that cold water feel refreshing.
My grandmother had pasti for supper and I ate a ton of it complete with her cole slaw and probably had one of the best sleeps of my life. Not a bad day for a nine year old kid.