Where to Begin: A 1964 Yearbook Inscription
by Tommy Allgood to Sarah Haynes
"I just don't know where to begin …" These are the famous first words of hundreds who are confused with the problem of thinking of nice things to write in this storehouse of memories. But I am going to start at the beginning.
I can hear the cries of our army now, Gen. Jackson and Lt. Haynes lead their forces against our weak force of two. Those days in the dorm, drag racing and falling down the stairs on a tricycle. And those picnics Kathy organized by the sewer where the grass was always so green. Only the memories are left. As the years went by, nature took its course; boys hated girls and girls hated boys. About all I can remember about the years that followed are those days your mama and mine would go out and look for the army after dark. Let us not forget the Barton children, who were “executed” many times. Those M.Y.F. [Methodist Youth Fellowship] trips Mr. B. carried us on to Stone Mountain, the old mill, the flats, the waterfall, and many others. Remember when we played Freedom at the waterfall and Robbie played grown-up? We thought it was stupid then. Then there was Lake Rutledge, the treasure hunts, and parties up on the hill.
Others may read this and wonder about what is written, but let it be said, Sarah and I are simply excellent and close friends ready to loan money without a second thought. Some people will tell you that they are your close friend, and five minutes later, cut you down. This group does not include us ... no need to say good luck, because you know I hope you have the best always.
Tommy
I can hear the cries of our army now, Gen. Jackson and Lt. Haynes lead their forces against our weak force of two. Those days in the dorm, drag racing and falling down the stairs on a tricycle. And those picnics Kathy organized by the sewer where the grass was always so green. Only the memories are left. As the years went by, nature took its course; boys hated girls and girls hated boys. About all I can remember about the years that followed are those days your mama and mine would go out and look for the army after dark. Let us not forget the Barton children, who were “executed” many times. Those M.Y.F. [Methodist Youth Fellowship] trips Mr. B. carried us on to Stone Mountain, the old mill, the flats, the waterfall, and many others. Remember when we played Freedom at the waterfall and Robbie played grown-up? We thought it was stupid then. Then there was Lake Rutledge, the treasure hunts, and parties up on the hill.
Others may read this and wonder about what is written, but let it be said, Sarah and I are simply excellent and close friends ready to loan money without a second thought. Some people will tell you that they are your close friend, and five minutes later, cut you down. This group does not include us ... no need to say good luck, because you know I hope you have the best always.
Tommy