A small cabin by Lake Fort Phantom Hill, near Abilene, was a source of various adventures and misadventures of childhood. After months of tree trimmings, it was time to burn our pile on the other side of the dirt road. I suppose I was 15. My younger brother was enjoying placing the end of his stick in the fire and then waving the smoky end in the air like a magic wand. Not good!
Almos...
To access content, please login or purchase a subscription.
