When the spring thaws broke up the
huge platters of ice, big and thick as
barn floors and sent them down Turtle
Creek, they were broken up by dynamite
when they approached the railroad bridge
over the Stateline Road at the edge of
Turtle Township so their weight would
not break the bridge. My friend Jack who
lived in town, but just on the edge of Turtle
Township scouted out the farmland area
with his red wagon and found a pack of
wet dynamite carelessly left behind. He
told me the only time his father ever
reprimanded him was when he found wet
dynamite drying in the household oven.
ter wrote a book about being a kid in
wartime, but he left out the dynamite story.
the sequel to this tale, dear reader, will be
related soon in Dynamite Poem Part 2.
2024 Jacqueline Jackson
