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Keith Roach mentioned to me the other day that my sister Rose Ann was the best whiffle ball player in the neighborhood. He was not telling a falsehood. She was.

This time of year, the neighborhood kids stayed in our backyard playing whiffle ball after school.

We played until our dads came home from work, went in to eat supper, than came back out to resume our game.

We had to hit it over the trees to get a home run and we had to get to the base before the ball got there. Sometimes we played that you could throw the ball at the runner after they got a hit. The runner was out if you hit him. Whiffle ball was a good lead up to baseball.

Dr. jeff Rumley told me on Summit Ave., when it rained, the bases could be flooded. They were the lowest part of the lot, so they puddled up with mud. The neighborhood kids would do the Pete Rose slide into the bases. They enjoyed it, but I’ll be their mothers weren’t very happy.

Whiffle ball was played with a plastic bat and a white ball with holes in it. At times, the ball would break and we would have to tape it up.

Tape on the ball would make it fly further and burn more when it hit you.

All backyard was full of kids all the time. Mom would make sandwiches for lunch to serve every kid who showed up to play in our backyard. Times were good and we enjoyed ourselves so much.

A home run over the trees was a miracle, but Rose Ann hit plenty of them. Apparently, the kids in Jeff’s neighborhood enjoyed it too.

 

They were the best of times with the best of friends in the best place, Washington, N.C! The Original Washington!