The field sat at the bottom of a hill next to our house in Joplin. I was in first grade. We spent two years in Missouri, 1966-68, before hurrying back to Norman. No offense, but Oklahoma was home.
A couple of times over the last half a century, I’ve pulled off Interstate 44 and driven around Joplin. Funny the things you can remember. I actually found that split-level house.
But the field was only a vacant lot, and not a full lot at that. The hill was an incline.
Everything seems bigger when you’re a kid.