In 1949, when I was seven years old, my father and grandfather took my younger brother and I to a cockfight. A neighbor of my grandfather told him about it and urged him to go. The ladies of the house were gone to a baby shower and dad did not want to leave us home alone. My father and grandfather made the unfortunate decision to take us with them.
We excitedly jumped into the car drove into the country along the Trinity River down into some woods. After what seemed like forever, a man flagged us down on the dirt road we were following and asked us what we were looking for. It turns out that he was the lookout for the cockfight and after satisfying himself we were not police, he let us pass.
