When I was a youngster, just starting school, our family lived on a small ranch in western Colorado. My father was a horse trader as well as operating a guiding business in the fall for elk and deer. During the summer months, he would operate riding stables in Aspen or Lake City, Colorado. In the 1950's, money was not plentiful and most often my mother would also work by cooking in local restaurants.
The Christmas holiday traditions that I still enjoy today were instilled by her. It was always a special time and despite the fact that money was hard to come buy, she would plan in advance to insure each of her children had something special on Christmas morning.
On one particular Christmas, I awoke to find a genuine "Radio Flyer" wagon under the tree as my gift. To me the little Red Wagon was priceless because even at that age I knew the sacrifices my mother had made to order that wagon from Santa. Behind our property, there were miles of barren abode hills, which was my personal playground. I had already made plans to roam those hills with my Red Wagon in tow.
Later in the day of that particular Christmas, my three older brothers wanted to borrow my wagon. Typical of siblings, the request erupted into a verbal altercation as there was no way they were going to take my wagon. The noise got the attention of my father, being the disciplinarian his voice got our attention. He looked at me and said, "Butch, Don't be a Tissy, Tissy Tight Ass" and allowed my brothers the use of my little Red Wagon.
Being older and faster, they headed to the highest abode hill they could find. When reaching the top of the hill, the three of them got into my wagon and started down the hill. Adobe is a soft dirt so with the weight in the wagon, it had not went far before the steering bracket that holds the tongue of the wagon dug into the dirt and brought the trip to a halt as it flipped them out of the wagon. Upon reaching my little "Red Wagon" I discovered the tongue, steering bracket and front wheels torn loose from the wagon. I was devastated. The first day, my wagon was ruined. In my adult life, the story of the wagon became a family story every time we gathered for social functions.
On my 60 birthday, my family hosted a surprise birthday party for me. It was a great time with family and friends. A special gift was delivered to me by my youngest sister and one of my older brothers that had destroyed my little "Red Wagon". A brand new, "Radio Rider" wagon! Neatly painted inside the bed of the wagon was the inscription "Don't Be A Tissy, Tissy, Tight Ass". Seeing the inscription, everyone in attendance had to hear the full story of the wagon and inscription, including two very close friends of ours that took great delight in hearing the story.
Three years have elapsed since then, last evening they presented me very nice framed picture of a little "Red Wagon" that they discovered while traveling. The picture will hang on the wall of my office as a constant reminder of my childhood and the memories that linger. Someday, I plan on seeing this wagon in reality, as it is a wagon that even my brothers could not destroy.
"Ultimate Red Wagon"
Al Pyhala Standing At Front Wheel Of The Red Wagon
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