Sunday, October 28, 2018
Ode to my childhood friend.
"I heard the news today, oh boy...and though the news was rather sad...."
John Lennon
You were never known to me as your proper name Ernesto or Neto because that was your Dad's name but will always be "Moonie" to me. We grew up within shouting distance from our houses in Shannon Hill and yours was the coolest house because your house had a basement. Which might seem strange to hear but for those who grew up in Shannon Hill know of the dreaded name of caliche and that has to be Googled to know why.
You and I were thick as thieves then and were so fortunate to grow up in the 60's even though the world around us was in turbulent change we had the innocence of growing up in a small rural community of Clifton AZ. The memories began to spring forth of that time when the news came to me of your passing and the times we shared growing up, You were the smarter of us and I was the daring one which was perfect as you had to brains to figure things out especially when we would find ourselves in predicaments or in trouble with our parents. Mrs. Spoon was our Kindergarten teacher and riding the bus with the bus driver Mrs. Adair was always an adventure.
From flying kites in spring at the baseball field a stones throw from our houses, learning from the master kite flyer Rolis how to get your kite high into the air, To Cub Scouts at the Mendoza house as Mrs. Mendoza was our Den Mother and going to JC Penny's to buy our navy scout uniforms with the yellow kerchief and navy cap. Our parents enrolling us as Cabellero's complete with sombreros to dance in Mexican folk dance for church. When we got our first bikes "Stingrays" the coolest bikes ever, that had the lifted handle bars, banana seats complete with the sissy bar in the back, we were mobile and took full advantage. Going down the Vuelta the first time on our bikes at god awful speed only to learn the lesson of going back up. Yet there was always at that time the "tree house", we spent countless hours under that tree from building small fires to cook our hot dogs, becoming blood brothers which we learned from watching the Cowboy and Indian movies of our day and John Wayne was "the man", as this tree was up and behind from my house and gave us a commanding view of Shannon Hill. Hanging out at Panchita's store waiting for the train to smash our pennies we laid out on the train tracks to add to our collection. Going catfishing at the Frisco and Gila rivers with your Dad in his green pickup or truckito as we called it and when were finally able to hunt by ourselves you had your .410 shotgun and I my .22 rifle.
So many memories Moonie that would keep me writing on and even though life had different paths in store for us. yet despite those paths I hold these memories dear to me for out of them formed my life and as yours as well, so thank you for being that kind of a friend to me.
Philip Tavison
