Dreams of a boy’s fun from a coonskin cap

He doesn’t play with me like he used too. I’d be the first thing he’d grab and put on his head when he went outside and pretend he was Davy Crockett. A coonskin hat was meant for little boys and those wanting to be “king of the wild frontier.” But he has seen me less and less since that white plastic ball entered his life and got him swinging at it.

How can a whiffle ball capture all of his attention? Sure, I know it was summer and he wanted to run around outside. He can mingle with more of his friends striking it with a bat and throwing it around the bases. The exercise is good for him and keeps him healthy.

But where are his dreams? Where is his vision that we used to share as we projected ourselves onto the television screen while Walt Disney reminded the country to “Remember the Alamo?” Remember Old Betsy the rifle, the trusted one the frontiersman from Tennessee carried with him ‘til the end.


Dreams of youth live on as long as you stay young at heart — Davy Crockett


How can a ball replace such an imagination brought to the surface by a Fess Parker or a Buddy Ebsen? They were heroes and helped boys of all ages see themselves fighting for a cause far greater than themselves. Go down swinging is what Davy Crockett did at the very end as well as Jim Bowie when he threw his famous knife while fighting with his last breath from his deathbed.

No, the plastic ball is just a passing thing. He’ll eventually graduate to a real baseball or softball or even one of the old pimple balls cut in half for him to play halfies. Football may come later.


But none ‘em will fire up the dreams and imaginations of youth, the fun we had, or the memories of olden days and when he could “Kill him a b’ar when he was only three,” He’ll never forget. They will last  as some later sage once said: “to infinity and beyond!”

(Fantasy post suggested at “Just Write” seminar, Spring City, PA)

3 comments on “Dreams of a boy’s fun from a coonskin cap

  1. contoveros says:

    The following was provided from the Facebook account:

    Janet Mather
    My beloved grandmother Lettie eventually lived in a mobile home park near Santa Barbara owned by Davy Crockett himself! I think she met Fess Parker along the way.

    So many great memories were generated by Walt Disney and his stories from “Frontier Land.”


    Diane Hamilton Burrus Pomponi
    Michael... As you can see from this photo, Davy Crockett was huge with us. (Please see link here . . .)
    My little brother was wearing the shirt and my little sister was packing her six shooter. After my first communion at St. Ludwig’s in 1955, I had to bring my breakfast to school every day to eat in class following daily mass, and I carried a Davy Crockett metal lunch box with the dangerously glass-lined thermos! On one side he was killing a “bar” and, on the other side, he was killing an “Injun.”

    Davy Crockett will live in our hearts ’til the day we pass on to that great Alamo in the Sky.

    I don’t remember my first Holy communion, but I do remember being in First Grade and my parents got a picture of me serving as an “Angel” who helped escort the Second-Graders from their pews at St. Ludwig’s while they walked up the aisle to meet up with Father Koenig.

    Rose DeLone:
    Great story!


    I got a little more creative at our last writing Meet Up and figured I would share it with others outside of our weekly Disneyland meeting of the hearts & minds!

    See you outside of Facebook real soon . . .

    Michael J

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Robert Palumbo says:

    So true Mike

    Sent from my iPhone


    Liked by 1 person

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