A Bump on the Log

For the past several weeks, “E” and I have been reminiscing on the childhood we shared. In particular, one of our favorite childhood activities…..crossing the log. Just a couple days ago, “E” revealed that she had been spending some personal time reflecting on the log and how she’s now realizing that it was very symbolic in making and molding us into whom we are today. And so last night, I began thinking really deeply about the log too, and how it was indeed used as a symbolism in our lives.

Me, “T”, “E”, and another tag-a-long friend “K” had to be around 8 years old when we discovered the log. Seriously, it used to be a group of us girls playing together, but to the life of me I only remember the four of us at the log. I’m sure there were lots of times when more than the four of us crossed the log, but it was those light bulb moments when only the four of us were there.

Our apartment complex, as I mentioned in other entries, wasn’t that big. There were 11 garden-style buildings that made up the entire complex. Me, “T”, and “E’s” buildings were connected together in the most popular section referred to as the “court”. The court sat smack dab in the middle of the complex. Behind the complex was a streaming creek that ran from Sheriff Rd. thru George Palmer Hwy and ended somewhere just before Central Avenue. In relating terms…..the creek ran for a good 7-10 miles.

On the other side of the creek was a community of semi-detached homes. Just the other night, me and “E” talked about how we always thought that the neighborhood across the creek was for well-to-do folk. Lawns were nicely manicured and everybody seemed to have a car parked on their side of the driveway. They just seemed to be living. Ironically, “E’s” aunt and uncle had a home over in that neighborhood and often we’d visit because their house always had some type of family function.

But that side of the creek just always seemed to fascinate us. For one, they had the basketball court where all the cute guys hung out. We weren’t into boys back then, we were too young, but there always seemed to be a sense of security being around the basketball court. But another thing we liked was that the candy lady lived in one of the houses. She had sour pickles and all flavored Now Laters. But I guess our favorite reason we liked going to the other side was because they had the best playground. All of their swing sets had swings. And their seesaw wasn’t missing handles. And they had a covered shelter just in case it rained. Many days we’d sit under the shelter and just talked or played hand games (remember……SLIIIDE).

The view from each one of our apartments looked over the creek and into the other side. I remember clearly that one of the best views was at night when the basketball court was fully lit and all the “big boys” would be playing ball. Just having clean fun. The view on the other side was really nice. Day or night. Ok, I ain’t saying that we lived in a dump, but compared to the other side it was quite obvious that those who lived in the apartments were just getting by. I mean, most of our mother’s were single and living on the system, and those who weren’t I’m sure only had temporary plans for being there. But we made the best of what we had. We never got bored. Even on our piece of playground we had lots of fun. But we had something the other side didn’t have…..the pool (might I add that we are all great swimmers today because of that pissy pool—lol). But the pool only gave us fun for a good 3 months out the year. We had to be creative during our playtime. And so that’s when we discovered “the log”.

You know, me and “E” were trying to figure out when we actually discovered the log. I don’t really remember. All I remember is that lightening LITERALLY bolted from the sky, struck a huge tree which caused it to fall across the creek from the other side to our side. One day I guess we were playing house down by the creek as we did often and discovered that the log could get us to the other side.

The way the log was situated couldn’t have been more perfect. The log was located right behind the court. In pre-log days, in order to get to the other side we would have to walk around the long way. That is…..walk down to George Palmer Hwy and cross over the little trail. But the log cut all of that hiking out. All we had to do was walk around behind my building and try our best to walk down the dirt hill without tumbling into the streaming water. Many days we’d all hold hands and walk down together. Cause if one fell, we all fell. The log became the short-cut for EVERYBODY. It became so famous that all of the ballers would just run across it to get to the basketball court.

Then one day. One day. One day.

One day, the four of us wanted to go to the playground on the other side and so we decided to cross the log. But we were too young to walk across like the big boys. So what we did was sat on the log with both our legs hanging on each side of the log and we scooted across. Scooting slowly across became the norm for us. But one day, we were almost across, probably in the middle, and these boys from the other side started messing with us and shook the log while we were on it. I think that was the first group fear that we’d experienced. Wait a minute……no probably the haunted house at McDonalds—lol. But being stuck on that log was a very fearful experience. But we stuck together until the boys left us alone. And we didn’t turn around. We kept scooting to our destination.

But then one day---in which says a lot about my character today---we decided that we wanted to walk across the log. Me and “E” were discussing this the other night. And so I asked her, cause I couldn’t remember--lol, but I asked her who was the first to walk across. And she says…… “Jill, you know it was you!” But then I did remember. I remember when I walked across the log. But right before I had made it across, I fell. I fell off the log and into the muddy water. “E” said that I said I fell cause I saw a monkey---lol. I don’t quite remember that…..but I do remember falling. But I got back up. Actually, I remember walking down the creek until I found an opening to climb to land. And guess what……I wasn’t looking for the opening that led back home. Nope. It was an opening on the other side. But that says so much about my character today. I can make it almost there (in whatever situation), but then fall off. I fall off right before reaching the finish line. But I get back up and I try again. This says a lot about me today.

By the time we were 10, we were almost running across that log. I remember distinctly all of us having jelly shoes. I had red ones. I loved those things---lol. But not when it was really hot outside cause those things would soften on your feet like hot wax—lol. But it was understood that if we were crossing the log to get to the other side, we had to change our shoes. We had to put on our tennis shoes. Our Kinney Kapers. Many times our feet slipped off the log causing some very painful situations. But that didn’t stop us. Neither did all of the rodents and reptiles down in that nasty creek. I can’t stand the outdoors now-lol. That’s one thing that me and [my friend] have both determined…..we’re not campers and we do not do the great outdoors--lol. But back then it didn’t bother me. It didn’t bother none of us. It was quite clear wild life was down there in the creek, but we had a mission. And I can’t remember ever turning around without accomplishing our mission.

Before I moved away I remember the log collapsing. No longer was it a bridge, but it had turned into a non-floating raft. You could indeed still walk across, but the challenge was gone. “E” doesn’t really remember the collapsed log, she only remembers the one that served as a bridge. She remembers the log that either you were up for the challenge and took your chances, or you weren’t. And I can almost put my life on it that we were the YOUNGEST FEMALES, if not the only females who took the challenge to cross that creek. We saw a better side with great opportunity and so we took our chances. Together. And even when we fell, ok I fell—lol, we got back up and tried again. But we had vision. We saw what we wanted and we went after it. And not once, and not twice……but we kept crossing it to get what we wanted.

This past weekend, “E’s” family had a cookout at her aunt and uncle’s house who still resides in the same house on “the other side”. Well, her uncle still does. Her aunt passed away a couple years ago. But after spending time with her family, “E” called me and said……. “Guess what I did today???” I was guessing everything but what it really was. I was like…..what, you went to church; what, you called so-and-so. Then finally she said…… “I went looking for the log.” After 30 years, “E” went looking for that darn log--lol. She told me that it is indeed gone. In fact, she said that there is a fence that blocks the apartment residents from crossing into the other side.

After we hung up, I started reminiscing and too thinking about all the life lessons that came out of crossing that log from faith to determination to persistence to preparation to facing our fears to teamwork to friendship to soooo many lessons. Then I thought about how disappointed I felt when “E” told me about the fence. I mean, is it really necessary. C’mon….Seat Pleasant is all one big hood now anyway. What are you really separating!! I mean, seriously—lol. But then I thought again and said to myself…… “oh, we would have climbed that fence.”

……..but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. -- Philippians 3:13-14