Six Mile Road

6mileFirst of all, the photo is from one of our northern correspondents, Paulette. It is Six Mile Road, looking westward just past Birch Point Road. It reminds me of the sunrise I saw this morning as I was driving downtown for breakfast at The Broken Egg with MWBB. In my earliest memories, Six Mile Road was gravel. I would be in my parents’ Ford or my grandparents’ Stude[b]aker (the “b” was missing in that vee-hickle’s later years, The Engineer would prob’ly remember that) and I can remember the sound of the gravel pinging away at the underside. When we turned on to Birch Point Road, I could hear the sound of the pine trees sussurating in the wind [thanks, Sam, for the word]. Those are the earliest sounds in my memory, from when I was literally six months old or so.

Amongst my readers, all 10 of them, I’m aware that there is a rather wide variety of political opinions. Many of my readers are family members, mine and the GG’s. I love them all and respect each individual’s views. I am rather apolitical myself. I’ve said before that I am a very independent voter. I tend to be fiscally conservative and socially liberal. I like Obama. He’s the first candidate in many years that I voted *for* and I am glad that he won. I *hope* that the Obama presidency means that our country has finally gotten beyond the racism that has plagued us since forever. But he isn’t a messiah and we have a *lot* of problems and some of them were not even caused by George W. Bush as much as some would like to blame him and I am still apprehensive about the future but I’ll stop with this train of thought. Mostly because I am relatively ignorant.

I was fortunate enough to be raised by parents who actively taught me not to be prejudiced against people who didn’t look like me. And they voted Republican during those years. Go figger. But I also didn’t have much experience with people who had black skin until I moved downstate. Up there in the frozen north, I can remember only a few black folks when I was growing up. One was elected senior class president in our high school. Another was my 7th grade math teacher, who used a paddle, but hey, that was a common practice in junior high in those days. A third was Ethel, the town brothel owner, who insisted on paying taxes on the income from her illegal business. That used to make state-wide news back in the 1980s.

The black folks that I remember made a life for themselves in a frozen northern outpost where there were prob’ly some people who were prejudiced against them. Sigh. Onward, with hope.

3 Responses to “Six Mile Road”

  1. Dog Mom Says:

    I have posted a link to some wonderful photos from the Inauguration. While I, too, do not look at our new President as a Messiah, I was just amazed at the sheer immenseness and scope of the entire day, and the way it was captured. I hope that I provided sufficient credit to the originating site….

  2. Jay Says:

    I remember the sound of the gravel. Lying in the back of something like a Land Rover, and going uhhhhhhhhh, so the rattling of the vehicle would make the sound rattle too. It was either Granddad, Jack or Don’s vehicle. My memory was of the Green Tunnel and Birch Point Loop. I don’t really specifically recall 6-mile as gravel, although the one-lane bridges are etched.

  3. Margaret Says:

    Your photos make me almost want more snow and cold. (NOT) They are very beautiful. I was reared by very liberal parents, but turned more into a moderate myself. I have a very political progressive Older Daughter and a moderate to conservative younger daughter. My husband is either an anarchist or a libertarian–we can’t decide which. *snicker* I too have hope, but also tend toward realism. The problems facing us are serious and don’t have easy solutions.(if any at all)