SLED: Gliding down memory hill

The guest columnist Diana Braskich brought back many memories. I was on Cherry Hill long before she was — 1948 through early 1950s. My little sled was wooden and only my torso fit on it. I rode on my hands and knees. That little sled, with its runners wax-papered, went like a fast moving train.

One day my brother offered his Flyer to me and off I thought I’d go. Just as I took off, he jumped on top of me, laying full length. Off we went. Halfway down the hill, I lost my handhold of the sled’s steering bar and it slipped out from under me. I then became the sled with him as the rider, tearing down that hill. On reaching the bottom, we crashed and I wear the results on my front tooth today. Chipped that tooth rendering it beyond repair. From that day on I went sledding on St. Maries Avenue.

Thank you for a great reminder of nearly 70 years ago and all the fun that little sled gave me.

VIRGINIA R. BALSER

Hayden