“ When I opened the letter from Pattie I was flooded with memories of our early friendship. It all began when I was allowed to cross South Jackson, St. by myself, about seven to eight years old. I remember going down to the to the Illinois Central tracks with Jimmy, a block east of his home, and waveing at and talking to the engineers of the steam engines pulling "Number 3," the "local" passenger train that ran between Menphis and New Orleans, (I think) stopping at practically every crossroad on the way. I also remember hooking up a microphone he got for Christmas, that would allow him to talk over the family radio, to a record player and an antenna. We would take turns at being the announcer, playing records and giving the news about the kittens his pet cat just had. His "radio station" lasted until we got a stern notice from the FCC that we were drowning out WJMB, our local radio station, at an area about 4 miles west of Brookhaven,
Our early, close friendship lasted until, at about 12 years old, I got the big-head and told him that I was too old to play with him anymore.
Thanks for the memories old friend.
John McGrath ”