(click to enlarge)On May Day I always think of Stevie O., my next door neighbor when I was growing up in the Dakotas. On May Days during the elementary school years, Stevie and I would leave baskets at each other's houses, ring the doorbell, and run like hell.

Being a tomboy I could usually outrun him. Although neither of us was really interested in actually catching or being caught. We were definitely just in the 'pals' category. We attended school together from kindergarten until my family moved in the middle of my junior year in high school. Along with the other neighborhood kids, we played kick the can and baseball during the summer and went ice skating and sledding during the winter. (Speaking of winter, Stevie was an absolute genius architect of snow forts.)
I've lost track of ol' Stevie over the years. Last I heard he was a Baptist minister -- I'm sure he would be a good one. If he ever surfaces via facebook or something, I think I'd be tempted to leave him a 'virtual' May Day basket! (Although a good hunk of the fun would be gone if you can't run like hell...)
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class picture from the '67 Ace yearbook; sketch from here






