And can I just start by saying that I absolutely love that, in my past, I have stories that involve something called "the old Dunbar watering hole". Thanks to the high school class in the Uniontown area (where I was living at the time), I was brought into the "inner circle", and became privy to the dirt path (with huge gullies in the road after it rained), and knew exactly where to park around which turn in order to go back through the woods to find it.
The first photo -- that's from the top looking over the edge (where once I jumped off, even though I didn't know how to swim -- just because all the cool kids were doing it and I trusted they would save me. [Which they did, but it was almost a disaster as they say that the top half of my body moved, but the bottom half practically stood still as I "jumped" -- putting me dangerously close to the rocks.]) The second photo is also from the top -- but this time looking to the other side of the old Dunbar watering hole (so you can get a sense of perspective as to how high it really was). And the third photo -- well that's my sister and her kids, whom you can barely see in the second photo and whom I took (along with my moms) to said hole when they were visiting on the way to the social event of that summer (more to come on that next week).
By the way, the old Dunbar watering hole will also make another appearance in this series in a few months (which, if you do your math, means a winter time set of photos -- and a true life story to accompany them). But that's a flashback for another Friday ...
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