To the Editor:

I enjoyed and took delight in reading Rupert Howell’s column about the encounter he had with the fireworks in the wood lot behind his house. I would like to share with you my encounter with the “woods” and Danny Ferguson.
Back in the early ‘50s when I was a rug rat, myself and other rug rats of the neighborhood enjoyed playing in the “woods” you mentioned. We would go in behind Howard and Susie Mize’s home, cross the ditch and we were there.
Danny and some of his friends had built a log cabin out of old fence rails and corrugated tin. Now Mr. Johnson let us build one across the the lot with some of the left over fence rails. We worked hard and did a good job, but due to the age difference and experience that Danny and his friends had, ours wasn’t as nice, but it was ours.
Now Danny and friends would take it upon themselves to smoke in their cabin. One time we found matches and cigarettes in ours and we took them to Mr. Johnson and told him about it. I don’t remember the outcome of that conversation.
One day the fire alarm sounded downtown, and when that happened we would go look around to  see if smoke was close to the neighborhood. I remember seeing a long tall column of black smoke rising from the general area of the “woods.” We got on our bikes and raced to the woods only to find Danny’s cabin had gone up in flames.
Years later I served with Danny on the fire department from 1961 to 1967. Long live the memories of the “woods.”
Robert Hartzell Meacham