
A friend of mine recently told me that his brother's arm went through one of those wringers. Ah, the silly pranks brothers play on one another. While it was a simpler time it was also a time when cuts, scrapes, bruises and a broken bone here and there were commonplace.
The place was Boston, Massachusetts. I must have been eight or nine years old at the time. My aunt and uncle were about to move to Texas, a place I only knew as a far away land. My parents were preparing to host a going away party for them at our house.