At Weeks End
Mid-July 1954 was hot as blue blazes, but not too hot for a knot of kids to covey up at Dick Davis house most afternoons and traipse off to Humboldts Walter Johnson Field for a game of Indian ball.
A chain securing an iron gate on the west end had enough slack for us to squeeze through.
The old diamond, with wood bleachers and lights perched on steel towers, was a dust pit; rain was scarce that month. Running across the field raised brownish clouds.
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