Burning the trash in the alley in that big wire basket with my father in the late 50’s andearly 60’s was always something I looked forward to. You could poke the trash through the wires with a stick and make embers fly high into the air. It’s a miracle that the garage never burned down. The “sheeny man” would blow his horn when he came by so you could bring your stuff out to him. When his horse took a dump,my mother would have us bring some back home to put in the garden. Happy simple time gone forever.
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