It appears that summer is finally here. At least the temperatures tell us so. However, the calendar lets us know that the season does not officially start until June 20.

Those lazy, hazy days of summertime bring back a lot of memories for me. Growing up in the small rural town of Nolan, we were always excited for the last day of school. Then it was three months of sleeping late and enjoying the many things that June, July and August brought.

First there was fishing. Some of my fondest memories are fishing the Tug River with my dad. Using just a couple of cane poles, fishing line and some hooks, we caught many a fish back in the day. Back then we dug worms for the bait. We spent many summer evenings on the riverbank trying to catch catfish near the old Nolan sand plant dam.

To me we were doing our best Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer imitatons. (Hats off to my favorite writer Mark Twain.)

Our shoes disappeared in the summer, and going barefoot was the norm. The only time we wore shoes was when we played baseball or softball, went to town (Williamson) or went to church. If I would have had my choice, I would not even have worn them then.

As I got older, with a real rod and reel, I spent more time fishing in the evening hours with friends.

Then there were those days spent swimming. The nearest public pool was in Williamson, which was 8 miles away. So we hit the river. My mom did not like me to go swimming in the Tug Fork because a couple of people had drowned there. Of course, being a young teenager, I thought she was overprotective. But now after I have raised children of my own and have five granddaughters, I realize she was just being a good parent. We all worry about our children and grandchildren and it is something that never stops, even as they get older.

Another fond memory I have of those summer months was playing baseball. I grew up loving baseball. Many of my best friends, especially Bill Burgett and Andrew Marcum, and I would make a makeshift field. We also played softball at the Nolan Grade School playground, something that was popular even with the older folks after they got off work on those long days of summer and on the weekends.

Nolan entered a team in the local Boy Scout Softball League. We fielded some great teams and won a couple of championships back in the day. It was fun to load up in the back of a pickup truck and go play road games at various locations in Mingo and Pike counties.

Our home games brought out local fans and parents. They even got chairs out of the school’s cafeteria to line up along the third baseline for some of our biggest supporters. It was a sense of pride for our small community.

If we won, which was most of the time, we all gathered at Curry’s Restaurant and were treated to an ice-cold bottle of pop. That was a real treat back in the day.

I spent many hours listening to the Cincinnati Reds on the radio. My dad and I were huge fans. Soon the team became the Big Red Machine and provided many great memories. To this day, I am a Cincinnati Reds fan, even though they have not given loyal fans much to cheer about these past few seasons.

Riding bicycles was also a great pastime. If you were lucky enough to have a bike, you got a group of friends and rode up and down what was known as the “backway” of Nolan. I guess technically it was a street because it was paved and went through much of the residential neighborhoods. We piled up many miles of riding our bikes racing, doing tricks and just passing the time.

I do not remember anyone having air conditioning back then. We had window screens in our windows and a couple of fans. They did not help much during the hot, muggy days of July and August. But we did not know anything else. At night I slept in front of the screen window, trying to catch a slight breeze and get comfortable enough to fall asleep. But hey, we made it and enjoyed those summer nights.

I was a star gazer and can remember staring up at the night sky. Once in a while, I would see a falling star. It seems like during that time there were thousands of lightning bugs. You just do not see that many today.

Another thing families did was sit on their front porches. If neighbors walked by, they would always stop and chat. We knew everyone in our quaint little town.

What I would not give to travel back in time—to be on that front porch with my family or on that playground playing ball or riding bikes with my friends.

What I would pay for one more fishing trip along the banks of the old Tug River with my father.

“Those were the days, my friend. We thought they would never end.” Hey, I think that might be some great lyrics to a song. If not, they should be.

Or as Mark Twain said, “Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”

Until next time.

(Kyle Lovern is a longtime journalist in the Tug Valley. He is now a retired freelance writer and columnist for the Mountain Citizen.)