Alexandria has always been my home town. I have memories of the long, hot, dry, lazy summer days before the Red River was dammed with modern locks and I-49 bisected the city.

One year the river was so low two of my friends and I walked from the Fort Buhlow/Fort Randolph/"Crazy Lake" (not politically correct today) area onto the Civil War era Bailey Dam, its accompanying weir, and natural rapids further downstream. I also have memories of going with the family every year to purchase our Christmas tree from the grounds of Mockingbird Park on Bolton Avenue on cold winter evenings. The drive there down Jackson Street and along Bolton Avenue would pass stately homes (most long gone) that remind me today of St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans. There would always a 55 gallon barrel on the site that would be burning broken pine branches and needles. My sisters and I would warm our hands there while Mom and Dad picked the perfect Scotch Pine. The mixed aromas of pine smoke and fresh sap was as memorable as the trip itself.

During other times of the year the community center in Mockingbird Park played host to what seemed to a baby brother (me) to be a never ending procession of piano and ballet recitals of my youngest, older sister. The memories of going with my best friends to Knox Inn Restaurant or Skippy's Bar (when we were almost old enough) across from Bringhurst Baseball Field after an Alexandria Aces game. The baseball field doubled as the arena for the 3 ring circus whenever it came to town in the fall.

On Texas Avenue between Masonic Drive and Lee Street, there was a wooden C.Y.O. building next to St. Frances Cabrini Church where we could go play basketball or join in numerous other activities during one of the many spontaneous afternoon summer thunderstorms. We roller skated in the old rink with huge exhaust fans on Rapides Avenue or at the Fishville rink during the summer when we weren't swimming in Dean's Hole.

The vague memories of my oldest sister going to dances in the municipal auditorium in City Park (where the Boy's and Girl's Club now stands) with its huge garage-like doors that would open to let the air flow through. Parents actually chaperoned in those days.

Football games at Bolton High School where it seems the entire town would turn out on a cool Autumn Friday night to cheer on our team against foes from all over the state. The Little Theatre just across Masonic Drive from Bolton stadium was where there always seemed to be a local talent play to watch.

I have vivid memories of the flickering images in the night sky from the drive-in movie theaters or the echoing sounds on a damp morning of propeller driven crop dusters and private planes preparing to take off from the long-gone grass civilian airport located amid corn and cotton fields off MacArthur Drive. I remember the city mosquito control truck driving through town just at dark on late spring and summer evenings billowing it smoky insecticides.

I remember a very old black man (reportedly a "rag man") driving a horse drawn wagon down Maryland Avenue between Jackson and Monroe Streets. We never knew where he came from or where he was going and never saw him collect any rags.

I remember the Alexandria Daily Town Talk newspaper coming in the evening, the Walker's Farm milk truck coming every morning, the 7-Up truck delivering drinks in wooden cartons to your house on Saturday mornings, and the entire neighborhood of kids chasing the popsicle truck on summer afternoons. I have recollections of my family driving to Reed & Bell's Drive-In in the Vista-Cruiser station wagon and ordering a hamburger with dill pickles wrapped in tissue paper and a toothpick jammed through its center or a foot-long hotdog with sharp yellow mustard and pickle relish topped off with an ice cold rootbeer from the big waxy containers they were served in .

And if you looked carefully against the bright setting sun you could see down the Leesville Highway to the unique wooden cattle bridge over the highway that connected a pasture which had been divided by the building of this highway. There are the distinct smells of horses and bulls while sitting in the old wooden bleachers with my cap gun six shooters, chaps, boots, spurs and cowboy hat while watching the Amicus Club rodeo on the grounds of what is now the Rapides Parish Coliseum and hoping to get to shake hands with a young Michael Landon or Doug McLure as he rode by on a horse. Fireworks on Labor Day at the Alexandria Golf & Country Club marking the end of the Deep South Fourball Tournament.

Church picnics, swimming and canoeing at Camp Hartner and wandering through the woods trying to find the water falls. Neighborhood baseball games at Red Hall Field or organized games at Delta Boys or Dixie Youth. Crawfishing with a string and a slice of bacon in Bayou Rapides. Grammar school football games at Huddle Elementary Field on Fall Wednesday afternoons. Breakfast at the Double V Cafe or the Waddle-Inn grill. A lunch consisting of PoBoys at Fuzzies or a hot, fresh sliced barbecue plate from Westside Barbecue (original location). Dinners at Effies with adults discussing Louisiana politics or LSU football or at the mysteriously darkened Herbie K's with the lady playing the organ (the world's finest food with the world's worst service).

Weekend wrestling matches from Jimmy Thompson's Arena being played on KALB TV on Sunday mornings before church. The roller coaster, carousel and other rides at Funland near the (smelly) buffalo cage at the zoo. The go-cart tract behind the old parish fire station and old state police headquarters near England Drive. One of the first Holiday Inns in the nation with its big green sign and yellow arrow with blinking lights welcoming in the weary traveler. The North Traffic Circle (gone). The South traffic circle (Groan!).

Being with neighborhood friends at one of our homes and watching Buckskin Bill (if you had a tall antennae), Laverne Perry, or cartoons. Later the neighborhood clan would mount up on our Schwinn paper boy bicycles or banana seat stringrays and head to Buster's Jiffy Pak on the corner of Texas and Jackson for a grape Nehi or RC Cola, some bubble gum, a comic book and a try at a quick peek in a girlie magazine before Buster would begin to holler - reminding us we were too young for such foolishness.

The wonderful ice cream from O'Shee's Quality Ice Cream on Lee Street and what his yard on Jackson Street looked like the day following Halloween after he would give away little blue cups of ice cream with wooden spoons. I remember the heat from the steam that was constantly emitting from Blackman's Laundry on Jackson Street near the Missouri Pacific Railroad and the fish market just across the tracts near Otis Millers engine shop.

There were the Saturday afternoon matinees at the Paramount, Joy or Don Theaters (single screens with one feature that might play for weeks). When we came out of the air-conditioned Don Theatre we couldn't wait to cross a busy Bolton Avenue to get a snow cone on a hot summer day before having the theater ticket sales lady call our mothers to come pick us up.

We watched donuts being made through the big glass window at Shipley DoNuts (either the downtown or Lee Street locations). Next to Hokus Pokus Liquor store there was an old fashioned barber shop where I got my first haircut at about two years of age. Next to the door was a coat rack that contained a small collection of decorative coconut heads and seeing those heads made it hard for a 5 year old not to run away when a man with a razor in his hand was motioning for you to get in his barber chair.

There was the Dr. Pepper plant at the corner of Texas and Lee Streets bottling drinks behind the huge window facing the street corner. Seeing the big neon rocket over Walker Oldsmobile lit up at night was a sight I'll never forget. Summer golf at the par 3, nine hole city course was always good for a few hours entertainment. There was also the rock garden along Bayou Hyson just outside the natatorium where we could catch small catfish with nothing more than a piece of Ivory Soap to bait our hooks. Camp Thunderbird, a city-run, summer-time day camp just off Babe Ruth Drive always had an end of the year camp-out on the City Park grounds next to the zoo. The sounds of the peacocks, lions and bears at night were very scary for a eight year old on his first camp out, even if it was in the middle of town.

There are so many friends and even more memories that were made in those days of growing up in a small southern town like Alexandria. I wouldn't trade them for anything and I would love to do them all again tomorrow if I could! Thanks for the site and for the opportunity to write my memories.