Sonny

Chris was my friend. I met him in Wichita Kansas. He was my neighbor and selling candy or popcorn for his school. I bought what ever he was selling and invited him in to share the stuff with me. He did. We talked, he drank my soda, ate all my candy, and left. I would buy anything he brought home to sell from his school. It became our routine.

Chris and I lived just a few doors apart, in the same apartment complex. It was a couple of years before I met his family. He was a seven or eight year old, a short and bumpy kid with a big smile (grin), a sharp mind, and a quick wit. He was very proud of the fact that he was born in Alabama – someplace called “The Valley.” It took me several years before I learned there was really a place called Valley, Alabama. I liked him right off. We spent many weekend days sitting in the floor of my place, playing the guitar, eating candy and just talking. I think he figured out early that I was an easy touch….and, it didn’t take me long to figure out that Chris was a very special person – very special.