In the early eighties, my dad built our house on Smith road. He was still making a mortgage payment on our old house and work was slow. Needless to say, money was tight. We didn't have refrigerator; we lived out of a cooler. I was one year old and my sister three.
One evening, my mom and dad were discussing how worried they were about the fact that they didn't have any money at all and we were pretty much out of food. My dad took his hunting dog across the road into the woods for a walk and to dwell on the fact that he didn't know what he was going to do.
About half way into the woods, the dog took off into a very think area of brush. He ran back to a log and was barking like crazy. My dad tried to call for the dog to get him to come back, but failed. Eventually, my dad had to maneuver through the brush on his hands and knees to get to the dog. When he got to him, he looked under the area of brush where the dog was barking and saw a crisp five dollar bill. He ran back to the house shouting "I've got five dollars!", and purchased bread and milk with that five dollar bill.
My dad was twenty-six years old.
The photo is of our backyard on Smith Road.
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