In Highland , Arkansas~
I love old houses! There is just something about them. The character of them is so different from the cookie cutter houses you see these days. I think people “think” they are being original, when really most of the new houses I see anymore, pretty much all look the same. I grew up in an old house on the Highland Road. People here in our community still remember when it was the peach capital of the world. We grew the most fabulous jumbo sized Elberta Peaches on the planet. We had a school, a hotel, a railroad, a general store, a post office, and a migrant workers housing area. It was BIG business. It’s all gone now of course. The hotel, the school, everything. Except the house where I grew up. It still sits across from the location of the peach packing plant, where the railroad ran right through to pick up the peach crates. Sometimes if you dig there on the old home place you can find bricks with old dates on them. Doorknobs, the beautiful ceramic and cast iron kind, and all sorts of interesting things. I used to sit on my front porch in the swing and imagine I could hear the train whistle blowing . In my mind the people were still across the way packing peaches. I could hear the workers singing , “Sweet, sweet peaches. Packing those sweet , sweet peaches. Peaches juicy, peaches sweet, peaches for me and you to eat.” I could hear the school children skipping down the lane to the store to get a 5 cent Coca Cola, and maybe get their mother’s mail before racing down the dirt lane behind the hotel, heading home. I could see it all so clearly. It felt like another world, not gone, but ours was simply super imposed over it in time. I just knew if I stood still, and turned my head just right , that one day, I would be able to get there.
Such are the memories of a child. Growing up in a hundred year old house. With all the ghosts that have passed it by. My sister still lives in that house, and I wonder sometimes, does she hear the train at night? Do the workers sing her to sleep with the peaches song? I wonder……….