Having left the planet of Wyandotte, never to return, we arrived in the New World of Flat Rock, and the first thing I noticed was structure rising into the sky, apparently built by the civilization that had previously inhabited this part of Walnut. I could hear the strains of Richard Strauss' "Also Sprach Zarathustra" as I approached it. . . wait a minute, "2001-A Space Odyssey" hadn't been made yet. . . anyway, it was built of rigid pipe, over 2" in diameter, and sunk deep into the ground. One end had an angled pipe bracing it, but the brace was never installed on the end showing.

The monolith had two ejection seats originally, later converted to only one in the center. You can see that there wasn't much else to play with, so I spent a lot of time learning about this mysterious structure. The open end where the brace should be was for English sparrows to nest in. The seats were to swing in, ever higher and higher, and attempt to break the world distance record in the frontal bail-out. The rear bail-out was to prove one's courage as a warrior, and to demonstrate how quickly one could duck one's head before being clobbered by the seat coming forward.

It took be several years to accomplish the feat, but once I could shinny up a vertical pole to the top, I could see enemies coming for miles.

Dad taught me to love Rust-Oleum, and the original silvery color was later replaced with his favorite; green.

Another pastime was twisting the seats until the chain was coiled and riding them as they untwisted, until one was too dizzy to walk.

It was a gathering place, too, much like the front porch, and the seats later became a measuring stick to register the growth of my siblings, and later, of our own families.

The swing has survived a tornado that removed the 25 ft. walnut tree that grew just a few feet away, and I have no doubt that it will still be there for future civilizations to ponder unless someone purchases the land who has no respect for the Sacred Swing.