Little Red Wagon

Greenbrook, NJ - jack - Friday, October 20th, 2006 : goo

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i saw this red wagon and just shot it as it sat there. i never had a red wagon because in brooklyn you just didn't have them in the 40's. i mean they were available but i didn't get one, and no kids that i knew had one. funny, there is a picture of my mom, 92 now, but a picture of her sitting in a little wagon. life is funny that way, with a war going on in the 40's and i was happy with what i had. very few young men around, me and my grandpa, i feel funny saying that, now that i'm a grandpa, and all the women catering to me. every night pulling the dark draperies over the windows at sunset and listening to the radio and every now and then a war report from the front lines. as i went to bed i could feel the heat from the radiator and i could hear orchestra music from the radio and my young mom sitting there, sewing a hole in my pants or finishing off a dress she made for herself. i would gaze at her beauty and her long dark hair and slip out of bed and curl up along side of her with my head on her lap and she would smile and keep sewing. and then as i dozed off she would pick me up and place me in bed next to her and i knew she was waiting for my dad to come home from the war. i didn't know him but i heard his name a dozen times a day. "daddy is a soldier", "daddy is fighting in europe" "daddy landed at normandy". i made sure that my daughters would have their little carriages and my boys would have their red wagon. i made sure my children new me and i loved them everyday i had them and never once did i ever hit anyone of them. i would do it all over again but we only get one shot at life and time.

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