I was 5 years old. My Dad was a share cropper. We had lived on this place for as long as I can remember. Across the road from us was a family somehow to my Mon. They had a boy a little older than me. We used to play together. We would get on old broom handle and pretend it was a horse. Take some string and tie to one end that was the bridle on the horses head. We would go out to the fields with our stick horses, play cowboy rounding up cattle. We would play for hours. I remember there was a thunder and lighting storm. My Mom was scared she took us kids and went across the road to this lady's house. The boy thought the storm was fun and ran out of the house into the wind and rain. His Mom was very upset with him and said something about the wind blowing him away. He just laughed and ran around even more. The storm passed and we went back home. I don't remember were my Dad was, maybe he was in town or working helping some one. Next day was back to playing and everything normal for my small world.