The Bicycle Ride

I used to do a lot of bicycle riding. Wasn't uncommon to see me going from home to the mall or to work over at the Holiday inn.

It saved money on gas was easier to maintain and provided me with some great exercise.

I didn't have a fancy bicycle with 5 or 10 speeds. Just a heavy duty 3 speed. And that thing took me everywhere I wanted or needed to go.

One day, one of my friends, the late Michael Shropshire -- the only male I knew capable of getting both my mom and and my sister to say he was hot -- and his volunteer fill in father figure got to talking and I said something about how I went to Mount Holly on my bicycle and how it would be fun to go from Moorestown to Bridgeton to see my aunts.

Well it just so happened that this volunteer father figure had another 10 speed bicycle and let me borrow it for the road trip.

So I told my aunts were were planning on bicycling down to the farm on September 23, 1967

My time estimates was approximately 3 hours and 30 minutes down and back so, we were pretty much going to spend about 30 minutes max down at the farm and be back on the road.

I got up at 6:30, ate some Wheaties with banana slices and anxiously waited for Michael's volunteer dad to pick me up around 7am. By 8am we were a on our way to our first stop, Glassboro, NJ.

Clearly, there was something going on. All sorts of choppers were flying around. The military had blocked our direct route.

And news teams were everywhere.

So instead of taking 41, we took 47 and finally got to the farm with everyone worried that we either got hurt or became road kill.

Michael thought the farm was rather big and I chuckled and told him that the other 900 acres to the west was all part of the Fralinger Brothers Farms including another 2000 acres on the north side of North Bridgeton.

And, of course, the Aunts chimed in with "Tell him what you did."

Michael, being inquisitive looked at me like, well aren't you going to tell me and I said, "Okay, I've milked a cow, pulled eggs out from under some mean looking hens, used a black lite to see if they were fertilized, weighed them, cleaned them and then created them.

"No big deal, but it was lots of fun."

"We got to get back on the road. This time, you can follow me."

First thing I did was take the back road out of the farm, head up Woodruff Rd. Where it crosses Centerton Rd, we headed north on that, once we got to Garden Road, we turned right and then turned left on Porchtown Rd and stayed on that until we got to Williamstown Rd. We went through Williamstown to Berlin where we picked up Route 73 and stayed on it until we got to Fellowship Rd. When we got to S. Church St., we headed north and I was home.

We ate dinner at my home which consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a bowl of hot tomato soup.

"Mom, was going on down in Glassboro?"

"Didn't you hear", she asked. "The President and the Russian Premier are having a meeting down there. They are calling it Glassboro Summit Conference. I'm calling it white wash on bull malarkey."

I laughed, "Mom, sometimes you come up with some really dozes. You've always had a way with words."

"Yeah, like you in Mrs. Halls' class," Michael chimed in and for just a minute I thought I saw a slight hint of warmth in those otherwise steal cold eyes.

There was a knock on the door. Michael's volunteer dad had arrived. I helped Michael with getting the bicycles in the back of the truck and we had some chat time. Shook hands and waved as they drove away.

I don't think Michael had ever been on a farm before. The smell of sweet hay piled in the barn, the wind mill that pumped water for the horses and the cows to drink.

Nor hear the cows moo within 10 feet, the chickens, rosters, the cats and some mean snarling guard dogs.

And I'm pretty sure he never did for the rest of his short life.

I don't know the exact date he died. Sometime in 1975. But I do know I was very glad he had a chance to see were the summit was being held and a chance to see what a real farm

looks.

RIP Michael.