LIFE ALONG THE DOUSINBERRY
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LIFE ALONG THE DOUSINBERRY by Ronnie Powell.
This is a self pubbed book by my dad. Even though it is (creative) fiction, I know that some of the stories reflect parts of my dad’s boyhood experiences, which helped me understand him better as a man.
During my youth, I also spent many hours along the Dousinberry Creek, with my dad, my grandfather and a boyfriend. Later I would drive across the bridge (of the creek) to show my fiance where my dad had built his cabin, on the cliff. Later with children in tow, I would show them the place on the hill where my grandparents house once stood.
First Line: “During the afternoon hours of a noteworthy Saturday, in the month of June 1945, two vigilantes slip quietly through a brush thicket, at the base of Brushy Ridge Hill in the Missouri Ozarks.”
End Lines (2): Herschel smiled. “I reckon so. I often wondered about your secret world, what it consisted of.”
“Yeah, Pa, I know you did.”
During the reading of this book, I realized that adulthood isn’t so much the story of our life. It's really before that, as youth, when the bones of our future are formed.