I have an ongoing project of scanning in the hard copy photographs that fill boxes of photo albums throughout the house. As I was going through yet another shoebox full of pictures taken over the years, tossed in no particular order, I stumbled upon a picture of my father and I standing on a huge fallen tree at Big Trees or Big Basin, I'm not sure which, State Park in California.
I could liven the story up and suggest that it was a huge grizzly bear or perhaps a rabid coyote, but as this alleged event unfolded, it was nothing more than a chipmunk, just as scared shitless as I was, at the other end of the log. Poor little guy. Both of us.
I know it is strange, but I actually recall standing on this huge log with my father. I can only assume the photo was taken by one of my older brothers or sisters, probably earning a merit badge for some scouting project. But before tonight, I had never seen this photograph at all. My mom sent me several boxes of pictures, and as I was thumbing through a few envelopes tonight, this one just fell out onto my desk.
June of 1967. I was much thinner back then.