When I was 12, World War II ended. For years, I had heard, "We'll do that when The War is over." It didn't happen fast enough for me, but things were changing. One of the biggies was that I got a bicycle. During the war, the few bikes that were manufactured went to the military or to messenger services. Telegrams were routinely delivered on a bike.

Then gasoline rationing ended and new tires were available. So my parents bought a car. It was a 1946 Hudson.

Travel was possible, and I took some short trips on the train. We even drove to Lexington. It was 140 miles of road so crooked it took four hours. But no complaints from me. We were traveling.

I heard rumors that post-war radios would have moving pictures, but I never saw a television set until 1951.

Hazard, Ky got an airport. It was a couple of miles from town, and it was necessary to trim off a hill with a bulldozer to get a dog leg turn out of the grassy runway. My father drove me out there in the Hudson and paid $2 for me to take a 15 minute flight over Hazard. I sometime rode my bicyle out there to watch airplanes take off or land.

Always a dreamer, I began to think about long trips by car or airplane. I thought of Nashville, Louisville, and Norfolk. Never in a million years would I have thought I would ever fly to London, Honolulu, Anchorage, Guatemala City or San Juan. But I did.

Before the war, I got to see five states; Kentucky, of course and four states that border it. During the war, I couldn't get out of town, but now my state count is up to 50.

I also dreamed of ocean voyages. I think I pictured myself on a tramp steamer going around the world in about 6 months. Modern cruise ships are far beyond even the ships we saw in movies. But I have sailed halfway across the Pacific, through the Panama Canal, up the Inside Passage to Alaska, and all over the Caribbean.

I also dreamed of space travel, but you can't have everything.

My wildest dreams did not include computers, the internet, cell phones, or weather satellites.

I saw my first power mower in 1946. It was a tiny, noisy thing, but the 1.5 hp motor would cut a 16 inch path through the grass. I never even imagined a mower that you could ride.

When I was 12, we lived in a house heated by coal and when it got hot, we opened the windows. Central heat and air-conditioning were not even available to the richest people in town. 1946 was the year that we got an automatic washing machine. It was a '42 model that a lady kept all though the war, but never used it. It seems that it vibrated so much, it danced all over her kitchen. My father bought it and bolted it to the floor. The house vibrated a little, but it worked.

So if you are 12, or even a bit older, you can dream, but you will never imagine the things that you will see, the places you will go, and the things you will do. You might even get to try space travel.
Howard