The Memorial Gym, the pride of Kokomo, was completed in 1949 with a capacity of 7000 fans. That’s fairly large when you consider the whole town numbered 30,000 at the time. I never saw an empty seat at a basketball game, another example of why basketball is known as “Hoosier Hysteria” in Indiana.
We met Lamar Hammer that first year at Central. He was in Don’s 6th grade class, and the three of us became inseparable over the next seven years. I remember the many times that we walked between his house and ours. We spent more time at our place. That was because ours was on the edge of town. Also, Lamar’s parents had divorced several years before we met, his three siblings were several years older, so he became more like a brother to us, and a member of the family. He often stayed over night and shared meals.
We had many adventures over those years, most centered on fishing and hunting. We were kids that a present-day Mark Twain might write about. Don was probably closest to being a Tom Sawyer and Lamar was undoubtedly Huck Finn. Me? Well, I did not fit any character in Twain’s stories. Tom and Huck did not have a younger sidekick following them around, so the parallel does not quite fit, but I could have been a good model for a third wheel in a story.
Don and Lamar gave me the privilege of carrying things for them, and often used me as their gofer. I was a full partner in our adventures on the river, though it was of a junior-grade.
Our river was not the mighty Mississippi, but the wee Wildcat - a creek small enough that the junior partner could throw a stone across it. The stream flowed parallel to Sycamore, a half mile south . We lived on the edge of town, ranged for miles along the creek, and knew most of the spots where a fish might be hiding. On many days we would not get home until evening. One time we had to run for our lives.
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