It was winter in the early 1960s. I was spending the night with my friends, Barbara and Alva, who were sisters. The next morning we woke to a heavy snow fall seldom seen in Georgia. No traffic on the road.
I stayed over the next night and early that morning we heard a putt, putt, putt coming down the road. It was my dad coming to get me on his little John Deere tractor. Snow was still falling. He was the only thing on the road since the snow started. We got me settled standing behind him on the tractor and headed for home in the silence of snow. I hugged his shoulders as snow flew in our faces. It was a joy ride for me. The only sounds…us talking, the putt, putt of the tractor and the sound of the tractor tires crunching the snow covered dirt roads.
It continued to snow all the way home. Sometimes snow would fall on us when we drove under trees limbs. We were definitely wet. That is the best time I remember having with my dad. We laughed in this wonderland of snow and us.
Safely back at home, we put on dry clothes, warmed by the stove, and later made snow ice cream. It is a fine memory!
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