KATHY'S  PAGE
		Ever since I can remember Kathy has been in my life. Being two years older than me, she always seemed to tell me how things were going to be, but I'd manage to do things my own way. We both have auburn hair inheirited from our Steckman family ties, but there's where it ended..... she was the classic "Margaret" from Dennis the Menace,(we even called her that) with her long red curls  & her  rimmed glasses, and I was kinda a wind blown child, always with my slip hanging, and my hair in my eyes.  Then we hit those pre-teen years!!  And found out that boys weren't just something to throw rocks at. We had a mutual friend,who shall remain nameless so she won't kill us, that hung  out with us on Kathy's porch on summer evenings, where we'd sit and call in on the Dedication Line on 106.1 in Cumberland. We'd dedicate songs like "Yellow River" to the Potomac, "Lay a little lovin' on me" To Ross from Janie;  just to mention some. Just sitting there watching the traffic from Green Spring go by and waiting for HIM....... the one Kathy  was ga ga over. Of course HE didn't know it. But our buddy was determined to  have him know. She'd get out in the middle of the street, with these humungus black Keds sneakers on, and wave him down. She once fell off the gates on the Tow Path waiting for him. It wasn't pretty. In all this, HE  thought  SHE  loved him!!!! We got her back. It was custom for all the generations of youth in Oldtown to write the history on the Underpass of the Western Maryland Railway & we were no exceptions. We'd run down to "The subway" to chalk a few phrases, running for our lives when we heard a car coming so no one would know what we were writing. This day we decided  to write "R___ loves Ross". The next evening  Kath & I were sitting on her porch when we heard this awlful racket coming down the street. We thought maybe a cow was dying. Here it was R____, coming down the street crying, carrying a bucket of hot water & a scrub brush. Her father had seen the message on the wall & blamed her for it. She tried to tell him that those two COUSINS had did it, but  too bad, he made her  go scrub it off. We laughed the whole time it took her to go down & scrub it off, come back,  and go home. Then there was our famous "Pay Paw" walk on the canal. We packed enough stuff for a dozen boy scouts and their parents, hitched it on our backs and started walkling to Paw Paw . We were only going to be gone for about 6 hours, but you'd have thought it was for a week. By the time we got to Ike Long's (Lock 68, Oldtown), we were really getting tired. But we had our transister radio on good ole 106.1, (we couldn't hardly hear it) and we were off to explore.   IT RAINED. Oh well, where were we to go? Can't can't off the canal. So we went on till we got to Town Creek & R____ had to go to the porta pot.  Now , she should have KNOWN.......................... We locked her in. Barricaded the door. She screamed worse than a cow dying....... and started rocking the "Judy" (we renamed it , didn't like John) and she almost tumbled into the Potomac.  We took pity after about a half hour and left her out. ANYWAY.... we got almost to Paw Paw when we ran across(literally) a group of boy scouts. We kindly asked them in our most Redneck voice we could muster if they knew how far it was to "Pay Paw"?  They thought we were aliens.  But they told us, and  ran off. But it was good clean fun........ Not so a couple years later when we really hit those teen years. We had a certain teacher that moved into an apartment over Pat Lewis' home. It was right beside the railroad tracks. One night Kath & I wanted to spy on her to see who was up there with her. It was a pitch black night, and we went to the Underpass to get up on the railroad. We CRAWLED  on our bellies up the railroad, playing the part of spies rather well, until I (the fearless one who was stupid enough to go first) crawled over a dead thing.  Needless to say  that was the end of crawling on the rail road tracks in the dark. We never did get to see who was there. I had to go home and wash. The point of all this silliness is this: If it weren't for Kathy Jean the Wash Machine (her other name) my younger years would have been so lonely. She's my cousin &  I love her  dearly, & miss her like crazy. NO SHE'S NOT DEAD, SHE JUST WENT TO  JERSEY................................................ NOW SHE IS THE ONE STINKING!!!!!

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