Brian,
Welcome to Writing.com, or WDC as we affectionately call it! I hope you meet many people here, and have as much fun as I have had in the last year.
What a nice, but somewhat sad story you have of a 20 year reunion with your best friends from high school. To me it's sad because you were the only one who kept the commitment and showed up. (Frankly, I'd be calling or writing the others to find out why they didn't show.) This is nicely written, it flows well and kept me interested to the end. I do have a couple of suggestions for you.
1. Use 'WritingML' to indent your paragraphs. All you do is type the following (minus the space between the brackets and the word) { indent }. I had to put the space there, or you wouldn't have seen it, you would see the indent caused by the command.
2. I think some of your paragraphs would be better in front of others, just for flow purposes. (My opinion only, you will have to decide of course.) I guess an example would be better than explanation. Blue is original, green text is the moved paragraphs. I also used the "indent" command to indent the first line of each paragraph.
At noon, on the Fourth of July, 1972, I stood in the farmyard, looking over a field of knee high corn, staring at Landy’s corner, about half a mile away. The scent of freshly mowed alfalfa was in the air; it was a beautiful day.
In 1952, three high school friends and I formed a kinship. We were all farm boys raised near Cozad, Nebraska. We called ourselves the Oddballs, and at times did goofy things to live up to our name. We weren’t exactly daring, but one time we went into a local café and ordered, each of us wearing one glove. In a small town, someone is going to know you or your parents, so it took some nerve to do that with people wondering, what the…?
We spent most of our leisure time (there wasn’t much leisure time for a farm kid back then) doing something together. We might have played basketball or Ping-Pong in the haymow of my parent’s barn, challenged each other to a foot race through the hills along spring creek, played two-on-two football in the stubble of an alfalfa field, gone to the county fair or a rodeo, or just hung out and talked about important stuff. Stuff like getting together for a reunion in twenty years.
In 1952, Cozad was a small town with a population of 2910. The 100th Meridian ran through town, and the main North-South street was named Meridian Avenue. There was one stoplight in town, at the intersection of 8th Street and Meridian Avenue.
The Oddballs needed a landmark, date, and time for the reunion. As high school kids, looking ahead to a date that would more than double our lifetime, we imagined that big changes would likely take place. We worried that if we picked the stoplight as a meeting place for the reunion there might be many other stoplights, and confusion could result. So, we decided to meet at Landy’s corner, on the Fourth of July, 1972, at twelve noon.
Landy’s corner was the northwest corner of Landy’s farm. Landy was Rod’s brother-in-law. Rod had been staying on that farm so that he could finish high school in Cozad. His father had found work in another state, and his parents had moved there.
I hadn’t lived in Cozad since 1958, the day of my marriage. Two days before my wedding, was the last assembly of the Oddballs, a bachelor party to remember. No guests, no entertainment, just drinks and fellowship, in Sam’s car, parked in a freshly harvested alfalfa field, reminiscing. Except for the drinks, it was typical Oddball craziness. We awoke at daylight, with hangovers, still in the car, still in the field. I vowed never to drink again.
We were a diverse lot.
Sam was a quiet, dependable person, of strong build, and destined to be a farmer like his father. He had boyish good looks, rosy cheeks, a quick smile, and got along with everyone. He was a crack shot with a rifle, and a champion blue-rock shooter.
Hank was a handsome, athletic boy, tall and lanky, seemingly with no cares, and with no particular agenda. Spending time with Hank was great relaxation.
Rod had rugged, good looks and seemed determined to do something important with his life. He was passionate about every undertaking, was a gifted writer, and was destined to seek his fortune elsewhere.
I was a skinny kid, undersized for my age, and had a wisecrack ready for any occasion. I had no future plans, but luckily my father had some. Dad hadn’t finished college because his father became ill and he had to go back home and tend to the farming. He never broke away from the farm and felt trapped there. He was determined that I attend college and get an engineering degree. It happened.
As the years went by, Sam and Hank married and remained in Cozad, on their family farms. Rod attended college, married and became a college professor and writer of note. I attended college and became an engineer. Rod and I both moved away from Nebraska.
Then on to the rest of your story. This way, you keep the reader focused on Cozad in 1952, then move to you and your friends, and the planned reunion. Just a thought is all,,,,
All in all though, nicely done!
Sum1
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Shame on them for giving you those potatoes! This is a good story though, I could almost feel your energy and desire to go trick-or-treating. I liked how you looked up to your 12 year old cousin, I was much the same way when I was about that age. I guess I just can't imagine going trick or treat in a logging camp though. I do have a little feedback for you.
