We moved to Alderson to the apartment over the drug store in December 1940. My Mother had her beauty shop there and right from the start the citizens of Alderson welcomed her and the business, so she seemed to always be busy. I was about one and a half years old when we got there and after a few years, it was like any small town, I knew a lot of people and they knew me, at lease on the Monroe side. I spent a lot of time visiting friends and in return, they visited me. 

There were two families that “took me in” during the day, since my Mother was working and I had nothing but time, and they were the Lobbans and the Honakers. The Lobbans of course were undertaker Charlie Lobban and his wife, their kids Ellen, Sarah, Carolyn, and little Charlie.  The Honakers were Ike and his wife Axie, their kids Donald, Phyllis, David and later Tom. During the first decade of my life I felt very close to both of these families and to this day I still have very fond memories. 

Typically Mother opened the shop about 9:00 A.M. and usually fixed me breakfast until I was old enough to make cereal. After hanging around the house a bit Charlie Lobban would come over. From the side walk, up to the second floor where we lived was the steepest set of stairs that man ever made. My friends would never come up and knock on the door, they would just open to door at the bottom of the stairs and yell, Bar-ry, Bar-ry! That long, small stairwell would act like a megaphone and it was easy for me to hear. I would then go out into the hall way and tell them to come on up. 

That stairwell of course had a hand rail that I could walk down a couple of steps, turn around, and hook my left arm  over the railing. With my right hand holding my left and lifting my feet off the stairs, I could slide backwards down the railing to the bottom, trying to time my arrival so I could get my feet down and not slid off on the landing. However, both of those things happened. 

What two little guys would do to pass time was nothing special or extraordinary except when we used our BB guns and shot at the windows in the second floor of the City Hall building.  We were on the roof of what used to be, Mick or Mack grocery store. The BBs seemed to bounce off the glass and we just kept shooting them. After the town cop came by to inquire we soon learned we were chipping the glass. I’m not sure if the town ever replaced them. Next time you're upstairs you can check on them and let me know. That took care of the morning. 

I loved lunch time because my Mother, our friend Adel Cook and I usually went around the corner to Ayres’ restaurant where I would always give my order to Ethel Ayres. I would ask for a hamburger. She would ask what I wanted on it, and I would tell her I wanted meat on it.  After lunch Mother went back to work and I went to the drug store and sat on the penny scale and read comic books. 

After my daily intake of fine literature I got on my three wheeler and road west to Greenbrier Street and back to the base of the mountain where David Honaker lived.  David and I had a love for cars.  We use to be able to name the make and year of every car we would see around Alderson. We had two auto dealers in Alderson, Carl Copeland’s Chevrolet and Charlie Miller’s Ford. When the new models would arrive for display, Charlie Miller would put the new one on the showroom floor as soon as he got it. Carl Copeland would adhere to the exact release date and hide his car in some one’s garage until release date. David and I use to go out at night searching for it and usually found it. 

David was customizing a model car with glue by spreading it over certain areas of the car to change the shape. Even at that very young age we use to dream about having our own auto shop. He would be the body man and I, the mechanic. We had that dream for a long time, but life takes over and it never came to fruition. 

It was getting late and I decided to go home and wait for supper. As I came to my house I went on around the Bank building corner and on up to where the Chevrolet garage was. I stopped about where Mr. Pizzanite had his shoe repair shop.  I left my three wheeler on the sidewalk and started climbing up the mountain. About three quarters of the way up, I found a little ledge that stuck out a couple of feet and stopped there to rest. From there I could see every where I had been that day. The warm sun was getting low in the west and there was a nice breeze up there on my little domain. Even at such a young age I sensed a state of well being and peacefulness. All seemed to be right with my world. 

So many times as an adult I have walked or driven by the place where I could see that little ledge as I looked up from the street, and I always said I would climb the mountain again and rest there a while. It never happened. I either forgot about it, or just didn’t have the time. Now, I have the time, but I’m not there and I couldn’t begin to climb that mountain today. But I am glad that I have the memory of the time when I rose to the heights and found a place to feel the warm sun, enjoy the breeze, and see all that was mine. Most of all, it was the place where all was well.