RIDE LIKE THE WIND

Erin Hovland-Moffitt In 1963 I was woke up taken outdoors to find my surprise 6th birthday gift. A red Schwinn just for me. With seven kids to feed that was something I did not even ask for. As soon I climbed onto my first vehicle, my older brother guided me to a side street in our culdesac . He pushed me with all his force and let go yelling "Ride ride like the wind Erin ride like you own the street". To my amazement I did. My parents were not the training wheel type.My dad would say "if you over think something you will never do it". My mom would say "if you deny joy because of fear you are not living."To understand this you had to understand they made their living as cross country barnstormers. Before my summer of 1963 came to an end days before I would become a first grader, I totaled my Schwinn. A neighbor boy (Rocco Genna) who I feuded with over what girls could and could not do, dared me. I set myself on my new vehicle at the top of a quarter mile inclined gravel road of our city park, took my hands off the handle bars , and flew off face first. The bike did not survive my red honey set on the curb for trash pickup. My mom picked gravel out of my wounds for weeks, bandaged me like a mummy over the tore up skin that was left on my arms, legs ,stomach and face. I sometimes dream of my shiny red Schwinn . I do not mourn her( my dad did bring out his traveling PA system and played TAPS as he set her by the curb.) , She gave me joy in her short lived life,