This seemed like a 4th of July type, summer picnic. I was nice to get to Northern PA, self proclaimed God's Country, in the heat of the summer but those never ending back roads to Renovo (rt 144?) seemed to go on forever.
There really wasn't anyone else my age at the picnic and I think even Tracy made better friends with the dog than other kids. I think I probably got bored but a constant distraction for me were the imaginary horses I could ride, many based on characters from Walter Farley's books. My favorite horse was named Flame from The Island Stallion stories.
As the long day turned to dusk and some of the older guests took on more alcohol, I rode Flame around the vast yard. One inebriated man, second standing in from the left, suggestively slurred that he and I might frolic like wild horses together in the field. I was really confused by his attention and hated that he drew attention to me and my imaginary horse. I think someone, maybe Mom set him straight, and I pretty much hid from everyone the rest of the night.
I know the hosts stayed in contact with my parents for years and they eventually had an emotionally challenged child. I hope that things got easier for them as time progressed and society became more accepting and offered more resources.
