Tricycle Freedom

Once upon a time I took a trip when I was about 4 years old and quite proficient riding my tricycle around the neighborhood. We lived n an old house down off 30th and State. My dad worked at a gas station just a few blocks away. I remember his bosses name was Doc. Being so young I don't remember much, I do remember though that inside the house was an old fashion water pump in the kitchen sink and that Mom and Dad got rid of the old ice box in favor of a brand new GE Refrigerator. Odd it would be that our family had that same refrigerator during the years we were raising our kids as a second refrigerator. I remember I used to ride the old trike in the house. Well as things go one day I needed an outing so off I went down State Street toward town. Now I can't remember everything but I tell you this. I was having a good time. I even stopped by some old guys house. He invited me in for a piece of pie. I made it clear down town on my trike. I must have been so happy. Golly just me and my trike and freedom. Well as freedom goes it comes with responsibility. My Mom must have missed me at some time and called "The Long Arm of the Law". Well the long and short of it the cops caught me in my new environment and new found freedom. My trike and I got hauled home on a motorcycle cops 3 wheel cycle. I must have been scolded I do not remember, what I do remember is being hooked up to the clothesline with a rope tied around me an the other end tied to the 50 feet from one end of a pole to the other pole. There I must have spent a good deal of my days. Back and forth and then forth and back. I have no memory of my trike after that day. I have a feeling it went South. All because a young boy had a desire to see the world and be FREE! This is a true story.