The Cowboy House

Cowboy House--not original
Cowboy House--not original | Source

Our Special Place

“Cowboy House” was the name we decided to give our secret place because it was less incriminating than "Hideout." Nevertheless, it was our hideout, our sleeping quarters, our place, or whatever we needed it to be. It was situated from the front of my family’s home across the gravel road down a hill among a thick growth of mostly knotty elm saplings with a few parent trees around. This was the perfect place for a getaway for rough riding, gun-toting cowboys and cowgirls like our gang. Although girls were members of our gang, we were all cowboys. We were a mean, rowdy bunch of yahoos who occasionally got kicked out of saloons, thrown from hotel windows, or chased, after robbing banks. The sheriff often ran us out of town or tracked us with his posse in raging pursuit. Of course, they always lost our trail as we raced across the hot, lizard and cactus-strewn desert to our safe haven, our old cowboy house at the foot of the red hill.

Our hideaway, a refined-crude structure, suited us well. We all worked together to fashioned it with scrap tin, salvaged boards from the wood mill, and poles that we cut and trimmed. That old shack had more cracks in it than the law allowed, but they served as our peepholes to spy out the enemies. "Open windows" might have been a better description. We built the cowboy house against a red dirt bank that doubled as a brick wall or an inner cave that was surely more imaginary than real. On a rainy day, we had many leaks, but we cowpokes didn’t care as long as we could steal a few winks and prepare to run if the town marshal or his deputies discovered our hideout. Running a risk of being hauled off to jail was not our lot, so, we slept with one eye opened and the other closed, just to be safe.

Sling, Rifle, and Bow Practice
Sling, Rifle, and Bow Practice | Source

Pistols and Shotguns

Smart cowboys were ready to fight at any time; therefore, we kept our pistols and shotguns ready and close by. There was no discrimination when it came down to weapons. We used all of our available resources. We made our pistols from forked branches cut like pistols and sounded like pistols, except we had to say, “Pow!” “ka-pow!” or “ti-yaaaaawwww!” ourselves. What did we care? It got the job done. We only needed to cut the barrels longer to make shotguns. Anyone hit first knew to fall dead, if only for a little while. If a man cheated by refusing to die, he would run the risk of being called a yellow-bellied, stinking coward. We did not have enough men for anyone to remain dead like they did on TV, so getting up off the ground after a few minutes killed was an understood arrangement. At the end of a gun battle, we blew the smoking barrels and rammed them back into our scabbards that we made of old inner tubing and worn belts. Perfect! Proud of our work, we would chew on our stick cigars or tobacco-size wads of wood sorrel chinked in one side of our jaws, assume our cowboy swagger—a bowlegged gait—spit tobacco juice, and duck-strut away to other outlaw business.

We'll Finish Them Later
We'll Finish Them Later | Source
Target Practicing with Slingshots
Target Practicing with Slingshots | Source

Slingshots

Another weapon we made was the old reliable slingshot. I figured if David used one to take down Goliath, our time making a whole supply was surely not wasted. Crafting this weapon required a lot of careful skill, or it would not work. To start, we cut three-inch rectangular shapes from rubber inner tubing with smaller stringlike strips threaded through scissors-cut holes and tied at each end like an open watchband, about eight inches each. The rectangle was the pocket for the projectiles, usually rocks. When we could find old shoes, or belts, to get cuts of leather, preferably the tongues, we shaped and used them for the pockets of the slingshots. Leather pockets were neater. We tied and tightly triple-knotted each rubber strip onto the prong tops of y-shaped wooden forks that we cut from small tree branches. We always tried to get perfect forks, for they made finer slingshots, but that was not always possible for young rustlers. To produce smooth, fancier weapons, we peeled the bark when it was not stuck fast. Our products were attractive slingshots that looked almost brand new, or so we thought.

As soon as we finished, we tested the slingshots by placing a rock the size of a medium pecan in the pocket of each one, holding the handle of the fork with the left hand, and, with the right hand, pulling the rectangle with the rock as far back as needed to gain the intended distance, and then, letting it fly at the aimed target. “Pling-a-ling!” A window broke, and we bad guys quickly jumped through, disregarding the dangerous shards of glass, and stole the gold before Wells Fargo came to take it away. How lucky we were to jump straddle our waiting horses, slings in back pockets, and ride out of Dodge before that old sleepy marshal and his deputies were aroused enough to know what had happened. We were too smart for our own good, and we got away every time.

Tired, sweaty, and dusty, we tethered our horses at the hitching post in front of the cowboy house, took a quick swig of water from our canteens pouring liberally over our faces, and dashed inside to divide the gold. Outside, our horses were snorting, whinnying, and breathing heavily from the hard, long ride. Soon, they began drinking water from gray, wooden troughs and eating their oats from old, rusty molasses buckets.

Later that evening the horses, full and calm, stood resting while easing one limp leg and breathing calmly. Inside, we ate our beef jerky and canned beans, went to sleep on our bunks with slingshots in hand, and wondered what the next day would bring. The old sun, turning reddish orange, began to sink into the western horizon, but it could never promise a gang like ours another sunrise.

Sunset
Sunset | Source

Horses

We did not come by these beasts the easy way like some rival cowpokes. They found theirs on the other side of the mountains and broke them in a few days; we actually made our horses. The process was long and hard. We had to find small, straight trees, about one inch in diameter, Even straight, narrow tree limbs worked well. We hand sawed or axed them at the bases, trimmed them of all the twigs, tied rope, old belts, or cords for reins, and began the process of tacking our horses using anything like old towels or pillow cases for saddles. Old mop head, shredded rags, or anything with frills to create the manes was good enough, too. Whatever was available, we used it to fashion our beauties. Da-daaaa! Our horses were basically finished. If an idea to further groom our horses popped into our heads, we went to work to get it done. Other cowboys had their individual ideas of collecting horse tack and designs. We would straddled our pole horses holding the pole in one hand and the reins in the other, or holding both hands around the neck. We galloped around to test them and made any needed adjustments.

Some of us cowboys were showmen and wanted show horses to complement our characters. We would add dabs of paint from discarded buckets to make pintos or palaminos, tack on bottle caps to decorate the saddles, or add anything attractive to enhance their special identities. There was always something fancy around to use. When we had refined these beasts in every way we could imagine, we named them, mounted them, and held onto the reins so we wouldn’t be thrown. We often rode with the wind and enjoyed our wild, wild western life as other neighboring cowboys stared enviously.

Sling, Rifle, and Pole Horse
Sling, Rifle, and Pole Horse | Source

Bows and Arrows

A few of us had to play Indians whenever we had a cowboy and Indian fight. I never wanted to play Indian because I did not want to get shot off my horse or turn tail and run. Cowboys almost always won on TV westerns like The Lone Ranger; therefore, I wanted to always be a winner. In an effort to be fair, we all took turns. Bows and arrows had to be made, but only smart scouts could do that. So, the best craftsmen readily transformed from cowboys to Indian bowmen. To begin our work, a plan had to be devised from start to finish.

There was a tangle of rattan near the old school house next to the church about a half-mile up the road. Sometimes we ate the slimy, nasty-sweet rattan berries because we were a daring bunch of tough, hungry yahoos. We mostly wanted the rattan wood for bows, and we knew that the smaller branches bent when pressure was applied. We would cut four- or five-foot branches, bend them in bow shapes, and attach cord string, wire salvaged from crates, or narrowly cut strips of inner tube rubber. We used whatever we could find. We tied each end to the bow making sure that the bowstring was taut and fit enough to cast arrows. Then, we would find straight, strong and narrow switches from trees or bushes and carve v-shaped nicks at the larger ends so that the bowstrings could fit into them. These were our arrows. Afterwards, We would use pocketknives to sharpen the narrower end to a crude tapering point. Finally, we duplicated enough bows and arrows to make an impressive addition to our already strong arsenal at the back of the cowboy house.

Every now and then we would take a break from our busy western life and ride to the big house above the cowboy house across the gravel road on the hill where our parents lived. They made us eat real food, drink milk three times a day, bathe, and sleep in real beds. This is where we watched that round-screen TV with tripodal legs and honed our cowboy skills watching Westerns like Have Gun Will Travel, The Virginian, Gunsmoke, Bonanza and The Lone Ranger. These were the teachers that gave us our fuel, energy, and determination to ride the blazing trails of the wild, wild West.

We, cowboys and cowgirls, fought many battles with Indians, rival cowboys, and the sheriff and his deputies, nearly losing some, but we were never beaten or captured. We robbed many banks and got away with piles of money and gold untold. The fiercest of posses and bounty hunters chased us like hungry dogs, but we were never overtaken. We knew that our cowboy house was not foolproof, and we always watched out for potential bushwhackers; but it remained a safe haven for the gang that outlasted every foe and outsmarted every pursuer—that old cowboy house that rested against the red bank at the foot of the hill below our home.

Enjoying Leisure and Tunes Before Hitting the Bunks
Enjoying Leisure and Tunes Before Hitting the Bunks | Source

Reflections

I cannot imagine any American Kid growing up in the Western Age without the benefit of being a true cowboy or cowgirl right alongside icons like The Lone Ranger, Calamity Jane, or The Virginian. There is no doubt that kids were involved in many imaginary chases, and other exciting adventures as seen in such westerns as The Tales of Wells Fargo and Jesse James. The kids had control over winning or losing, but sweet victory was always favored. Dreams could be controlled to be just what they wanted them to be, and control, they did.

Perhaps you have a favorite memory of your cowboy days gone by, Maybe you had real, imaginary, or a combination of cowboy experiences that you will always cherish. Whatever they were, you will probably enjoy reliving them for many more years to come. In the words of The Lone Ranger preparing to ride off into the West: "Hi-yo, Silver! Away!"

Be Safe: Although my siblings, neighboring cousins, and I made crude bows and arrows and sling shots, we did not consider the danger they posed. I was actually shot with an arrow in my right forearm. We did not tell our parents, but when I received another arrow in my right eye, the whole country, it seemed, immediately knew. I squalled to Heaven until Daddy came running from our potato field. We learned safety the hard way.

It is not recommended that kids make their own bows and arrows. Some stores carry the suction-tip arrows that are safer for little cowboys and cowgirls. I do not recommend that kids use rocks with slingshots. Small rubber balls are safer, but supervision should be used to prevent kids from swallowing any small objects.

Buffalo Cowgirl and The Slingshot Bandit
Buffalo Cowgirl and The Slingshot Bandit | Source
Taking Turns Riding a Real Horse
Taking Turns Riding a Real Horse | Source

More by this Author


41 comments

moonlake profile image

moonlake 4 years ago from America

How cute is this hub. Kids just having fun. I really enjoyed your story. My brothers were always playing cowboys and Indians.

Our son use to go to bed with his gun tucked under his arm. I wish kids still played that way.

Voted up.


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Moonlake:

Thanks! I appreciate your visit. Yes, those were the days we thought would never end, and we were right. They still live inside of us.


James A Watkins profile image

James A Watkins 4 years ago from Chicago

What beautiful children in your photographs! Cute as buttons! Is one of them you? Come on, you can tell me.

Oh yea, me and my cousins loved to build forts and play either cowboys or soldiers. What fun we had.

I enjoyed your Hub very much. I was grinnin' through the whole cotton pickin' thing. Well done!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Coming from one of HubPages greats, that means a lot to me. Thanks! Yes, I am southern from the cotton patch to downtown Saturday night, and loving it.

I know you are kidding. One of these kids is Carolyn? When I was a child, color photography was not yet born, at least not in my neck of the woods. These are my grands. They are cousins. My children thought that I was looney for rehatching those old stick toys, but the grands loved every minute of the makings. They wanted to keep them, but I gradually took them away. They could do a lot of damage to an unsuspecting bushwhacker.

Thanks for visiting.


WillStarr profile image

WillStarr 4 years ago from Phoenix, Arizona

Excellent!

When I was a kid, we moved to South Carolina. Dad bought a couple of acres in the piney woods, where we lived in a trailer. The black kid down the sandy road was named Smiley, and we hit it off because we both loved cowboys. That was in the 50's.

You write very well! My specialty is the Old West. You might enjoy this story:

http://hubpages.com/literature/Hired-On


Winsome profile image

Winsome 4 years ago from Southern California by way of Texas

What grand cowpokes! Lovely memoir of the old west via the south. I was just thinking of how fun it would be to resurrect the practice of folk toys. I know they exist in some parts of the south commercially, but out here in LA we could use some laid back, charmingly crude wooden toys. I may have to devote a hub to it. Thanks for the tour down all our memories. =:)


Levertis Steele 4 years ago

Will Starr:

You are welcome. Thanks for visiting my hub. I had fun writing it, but it was a thrill living it.


Levertis Steele 4 years ago

Winsome:

The old western stick toys were certainly better than the dangerous "toy" used in the streets today. When we were shot back then, we got up after a few minutes dead, but that does not happen with the real street toys. Yes, those were better days. I often wonder what stick toys kids used in other parts of the country.

Thanks for visiting!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Winsome:

You said that you were thinking about devoting a hub to stick toys. I am waiting for it. My dad made us kids whistles and flutes from bamboo, which was a lot of noisy fun. I have tried to duplicate them, but I do not have the skill.


ChristyWrites profile image

ChristyWrites 4 years ago from British Columbia, Canada

Kids having fun, nice to read about! Well written too.


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

ChristyWrites:

Thanks for your visit and comment!


sgbrown profile image

sgbrown 4 years ago from Southern Oklahoma

I love this hub! I played cowboys and indians right along side the boys when I was a kid. I did have a plastic revolver, but my horse was mama's broom! :) I never was good with a sling shot, but I could catch a lizard better than anybody! Too bad kids don't know how to use their imagination these days. I really think we had much more fun back then than they do today even with all the "stuff" they have. Voted up and awesome! :)

I also wanted to mention that I was replying to your comment on my previous hub, when it just disappeared! That has happened to me twice today. I appreciated your comments on my hub, but I did not mean to open a "can of worms"! :) Regardless of who is in the hoodie, women just need to be more cautious. I do appreciate your comment, thank you!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Thanks, sgbrown, for visiting and sharing your cowgirl experiences. Yes, we used our imaginations to have fun then, but kids now have so many hands-on, visual, and auditory experiences that imagination is not used as much.

Usually a "can of worms" brings much raffic. So, it is not so bad!

Thanks for visiting, commenting on my hub, and clarifying another.

I am voting up and clicking on the positives!


Nell Rose profile image

Nell Rose 4 years ago from England

Its great to see kids doing the things we all did back then, I was always the Indian and my brother the Cowboy, mind you he always cheated and shot me with an arrow, and that hurt! lol! loved your hub, brought back so many memories, nell


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Thanks for taking the time to read my hub, Nell. I am glad that it brought back fond memories.


Jools99 profile image

Jools99 4 years ago from North-East UK

Levertis, what a wonderful hub. Your tales of the wild west are great and your own photos really round out the story, just great!

Voted up and shared.


haggard50 profile image

haggard50 4 years ago from Florida

Oh my goodness! I absolutely loved this hub. A childs imagination is a wonderful thing. We used to find arrowheads when Daddy plowed the fields by the pond. We tied them to sticks and made spears. Scary stuff. Mama was big on praying because there were too many of us to watch. Great story!

You/ve done a wonderful job. I'll be remembering long forgotten adventures for days now.


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Haggard50,

Thanks for the visit and your kind comment. My siblings and I also found arrowheads and even fossils of insects. Where are they to be found now? I took my grandchildren treasure hunting a year ago, and they loved it. We did not find arrowheads, but we did find coins, keys, and a few other things that I secretely strewed around before the hunt began. They loved it!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Jools99,

Thanks for your visit, comment, and vote!


Sunshine625 profile image

Sunshine625 4 years ago from Orlando, FL

Cowboys, slingshots, bows and arrows this is my kinda hub! What an awesome story! :)


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 4 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Thanks, Sunshine625! I am glad that you like my story. I miss the good old days, and I long for the red hills that I used to climb. They have been leveled since my childhood, and the community has changed to almost unrecognizable, but very modern.

I appreciate your visit.


Little Grandmommy profile image

Little Grandmommy 3 years ago from Small Town Tennessee

I miss the pretending and playing of years gone by too. What a lovely hub. Beautiful children in the pictures. Thank you. Thumbs up!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Thanks, Little Grandmommy! I miss the play of pretnnding too, but in my mind then, it was real. I get a chance to relive those days through my Grandchildren every now and then. They love it. We have plans to go into the woods soon to exercise the slingshots. I will talk to them about respecting wild and domestic animals because boys are often tempted to target them. I refuse to pretend that this is just for the kids. I can hardly wait!

When our sons were boys, my husband bought model cars, trains, and remote control planes for them. He played with them as much as they did. I saw the kid in him as the boys complained about him taking longer turns than they did. It was hilarious!

Thanks for visiting and commenting.


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 3 years ago from Hamilton, Alabama

Levertis,

I got to tell you, "I love this hub to death!" So touching and so well-written that I was instantly taken back to a time in my life when things were easy and relaxed, my childhood.

Oh, for a dollar for every "hide out," I made by myself. I was raised by two parents who were past child-rearing since my sister married at age 15 and left home.

That left me, my dogs and my imagination to survive.

And with God's help, I did.

Thank you for your great talent.

I voted up and all across!

Your Friend, KENNETH


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Kenneth,

I am happy that you visited my page, friend! Great talent? I never thought I had great talent, but I will quickly accept the compliment. I thank you kindly for the votes, too.

You wrote, "I was instantly taken back to a time in my life when things were easy and relaxed, my childhood."

What fun it is to nestle back in the past of fond memories to gladden the spirit. I am pleased that you enjoyed my hub. Remain well.


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 3 years ago from Hamilton, Alabama

Hi, Levertis,

You are welcome as can be. Even now at 8:31 p.m., Sunday night, April 21, I was taken back to my teenage years, a literal Hades of six years ranging from sixth grade until I graduated high school. I never got to attend any prom due to my family's lack of money, so I had to sit back and PRETEND that for years, I wasn't bothered by it.

Saturday I watched a movie called, "Prom," and it hit home. Man, did it hit home. Even at my age. I wanted to then, as I do now, just shut myself up in a bedroom in the dark and cry out to God for help!!!

Not only do I regret this in my life, but since 2003, I have been battling two incurable diseases: Accelerated Fibromyalgia and Neurothopy, both are dangerous diseases of the skeletal and nervous system and there isn't a cure.

God didn't do this. Satan didn't do this. Life, my dear friend, is not perfect. I had to learn this the hard way.

Actually, I am looking forward to the day when I take my last breath and be free of this pain and dark depression.

This is all a true confession to a new friend: YOU.

Take care and you ARE a wonderful writer. Keep it up. No telling how many lives you will touch.

Love ya, KENNETH


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Kenneth,

You have taken ME back to my junior high through senior years of proms! I attended my schools' proms in the 8th, 9th, and 12th grades. At that time, I was too young to date according to my family's standards. My mom escorted me to each prom! She was decked in her shiny dress, heels, and makeup. Can you imagine how embarrassed many of the girls were to have parental escorts? Some of the girls had cousins or brothers for escorts, and that was better than mom all decked out noticeably. I was 19 before I was able to sneak and date a young man who became my husband three years later. Mom kept me in check and on curfew until I walked down the aisle. Now that I am no longer a child, I look back and love my sweet mother for a time that I was ashamed of her for making me miserable. She even told me that the man I promised to marry was not ready to be a husband, but I was blind and in love. All she did and said was just her ways of loving and preserving me. I learned many lessons the hard way.

I am sorry about your illnesses, and you are so right that life is not all roses. Even so, every obstacle we encounter has a lesson or two for our own benefit as well as others. I can say that I know what it is like to want to close my eyes to sleep in death. Once I was very ill and prayed for death. I asked God to save my soul, but give me rest. He did not allow me to die, but he gave me peace, and I am happy that He did. Peace is one of the best gifts I have ever received.

When this same husband left me for another woman, It was that peace that caused me to crave life again. It did not come soon, but it came, and I learned much while waiting. I truly hope that you find peace within, that sweet peace that only God can give.

Thanks for your encouragement, and I truly wish you wellness and peace.


Kenneth Avery 3 years ago

Dear, dear Levertis . . .no male in his zgod-given mind would leave such a lady so classy as yourself. I mean that with every labored-breath.

You deserve a God-revering man who loves God and you, with all of his soul.

I apologize for being so dark, but atvthevsame time, I'm thankful that I met you on hubs.

Please stay in touch with me and I will do the same.

God bless you with more peace and happiness.

Love, Kenneth


Denise Handlon profile image

Denise Handlon 3 years ago from North Carolina

This is such a delightful hub, Levertis. Are those adorable children your grandkids? I had to chuckle about your 'Cowboy House', we had a clubhouse we hung out in. The slingshots brought back other memories for me, as did the Mohawk haircut. My brothers had both during the summers.

Enjoyed-UP/A/I/F and will share.


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Yes, these cowpokes represent four families of grands. They helped me to recreate the old days when my brothers and I blazed the trails of the wild West.

Thanks for reading my hub and leaving your thoughts and clicks, Denise!


Nell Rose profile image

Nell Rose 3 years ago from England

Came back for another read Levertis, and I still loved reading it, its great to see kids having fun the old fashioned way! voted up and shared, nell


techygran profile image

techygran 3 years ago from Vancouver Island, Canada

Brings back a lot of memories from my cowboy days as a child... thanks for writing this. The pictures were adorable!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Nell and techygran,

My cowpoking days are some of my most fond memories. I wonder if there is anyone who did not like playing cowboys and indians. I have not found a soul who did not like it. My little cowboys and cowgirl here still need a lot of training, but they are promising.

Thanks for stopping by and leaving a good word!


Au fait profile image

Au fait 3 years ago from North Texas

A fun and nostalgic read! Your photos are first-rate too. Enjoyed this hub very much.!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Thanks, Au fait!


Shyron E Shenko profile image

Shyron E Shenko 3 years ago

Levertis, this is amazing, My brothers, cousins and I as children did all these things that you talk about. I do hope you did not have permanent damage to your eye.

We had to work in the cotton fields, corn fields, chop wood and feed animals, not much time for play except in the dead of winter.

Voted up, UAI and shared.


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 3 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Shyron, I did not have permanent damage to my eye, but I got an infection that hurt badly for a couple of weeks until it was well. My dad administered the drops that burned badly and the patches, but I survived. A scar on the eyeball disappeared entirely after fifteen years. My visual acuity remains age appropriate. The memory of being really "shot" was a proud one for this cowgirl after the pain subsided. Once was enough for me, so we never made the mistake of repeating the real shooting of anyone else.

Grandpapa's farm was busy, but we had times to play, or we took them. Wintertime did not stop us cowpokes. When we were tired of beans and hungry for meat, we would track rabbits--real tracks--in the snow and roast them over a roaring fire imaginarily. What dreams and fun we had!

Thanks for your visit and contribution!


Jackie Lynnley profile image

Jackie Lynnley 2 years ago from The Beautiful South

I had four brothers so I have some of these memories too! I don't think we took them quite as far but we had the stick horses etc. We walked barrels which was our version of a log in the water and would see who could last longest without falling off. I was best!

Very interesting!


Levertis Steele profile image

Levertis Steele 2 years ago from Southern Clime Author

Jackie, playing cowboys and Indians was much fun except the time I was really shot with an arrow. Rolling barrels and tires were fun games until my brother coaxed me into a barrel and rolled me down a steep hill. It seemed that I rolled forever. When I stopped, I had to wait for several minutes before I was able to stand without falling . That was a horrible experience that I still remember after fifty years.

Thanks for reading and leaving your comment!


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 2 years ago from Hamilton, Alabama

Levertis,

Hi. Remember me? I just saw that Jackie, one of my followers had commented on your hub and I just wanted to say hi. Yours was among the first hubs I read almost four years ago.

Are you doing okay?

You said cowboys and Indians, well, would you read my latest hub: "Scarecrows and Haystacks Made My Youth Worth Living," because I can relate to yours in this one.

Have a safe day.


Shyron E Shenko profile image

Shyron E Shenko 22 months ago

Hi Levertis, I thought of this hub when I played one of my old song "Bang, Bang" by Nancy Sinatra.

I hope all is well with you.

Voted up, UABI and shared

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