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But the feeling was in this instance meaning this very minute, and I recognized the source of the deja vu feeling. I had dreamed it the night before.
But the cherry bombs. We had rich neighbors on either side on Fox Island and the one on the east side always bought a lot of fireworks. My grandfather had money but he didn't spend it. The neighbors to the west were somewhat, although having money and a cabin cruiser were modest and not ostentatious. Where the idea came from I have no idea accept that we did have cherry bombs. There was a small little used asphalt road-bridge on some farm land more near Round Lake. We poured gasoline on the bridge and Dickie thru a cherry bomb into it. BOOM ! That's what we wanted to see, flame shooting up into the air. So we took off right quick and drove to my house in the '57 Chev and put it in the garage, switched to Jimbo's car and drove back to the scene of the crime. Not anything could have happened, it was a metal asphalt bridge in the middle of nowhere with not even trees around. But the fire department was there and we pretended to be just passing through.
We never got caught for anything. Whereas the four years younger generation called the Boomers, seemed to get caught for everything they did. Men would like to soup up their cars. Hawkins and his father who lived in Song Lake built a sporty car body out of fiberglass from perhaps an old forties Plymouth frame with a six cylinder engine. He backed out of the garage once still not finished to show it off and rear-ended into a telephone pole. The project was said to keep him out of trouble and away from guys like us.
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