Editor’s note: This is another column in Bill Boyd’s new series, “The Way It Was,” about growing up in Marysville. Bill continues to work with the Union County Historical Society to obtain information for his stories.
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Of all the toys I had when I was a kid, the one I remember most is my tricycle. It was a hand-me-down tricycle from both of my sisters. My sister Betty, who was 12 years older than me, was the original owner. Then it was handed down to my other sister, Maryann, who was eight years older than me. When she outgrew it, my parents put it in the basement until I came along.
I should say at this point that it was not one of those tricycles made for three or four-year-olds. It was much too tall for that. It was made for older kids … a lot older. It was the biggest tricycle I have ever seen.
The front wheel on that tricycle was huge, which put the rider high off the ground. That made the whole thing a little top-heavy. So if I was going pretty fast and made a quick turn, I sometimes tipped over and found myself on the ground.
There were no fenders on it, either. Normally that wasn’t a problem. But if it had rained recently, and there were a few puddles here and there, the fenderless front wheel sprayed water all over me. I suppose I could have asked for a new tricycle, but I didn’t even think of that. It was during the heart of the Great Depression, when people lived a lot more frugally than they do today. Besides, I really liked that big old tricycle.
It’s hard to explain how much fun I had with it. For example, one day a neighborhood boy named Jim Beck saw me riding it in our driveway. He was a couple years older than I was, and quite a bit bigger. He often rode his tricycle on the sidewalks in the neighborhood.
Most of those sidewalks were made of brick, which made for a pretty bumpy ride. So when Jim saw me riding on our smooth concrete driveway, he went home and came back with his trike. We rode together all day long, and Jim didn’t even take his trike home that day. He just put it in our barn, so he could come back the next morning and ride some more.
While all this was going on, I had a pet duck named Goofus. It was an Easter gift for me when it was a tiny duckling. It was now a full grown duck and we kept it in our backyard. When I walked through that yard, the duck followed me everywhere I went.
Then Jim got a great idea. He said we could put Goofus in the driveway with us. If we could teach him to follow me on my trike, the three of us could hold a parade. We did just that, and we didn’t have to teach Goofus anything. He just followed me wherever I went.
It was an unusual looking parade. First came Jim, who was a lot bigger than me, but was riding that tiny tricycle. I was next, mounted atop my oversize trike. Bringing up the rear was Goofus. The three of us went around and around the driveway that day. It was a wonderful parade, and we repeated it several times that summer.
Then one day a few months later, Goofus wandered into Fifth Street and was hit by a car. That put an end to our parades. Oh, Jim and I tried to have a parade with just the two of us, but it wasn’t the same without Goofus. He was a really smart duck.
Those wishing to contact Bill Boyd can e-mail him at williamboyd514@gmail.com