A statue honoring the Veterans of the Korean War stood watch over a lone Dodge at the county park. Across from the empty jungle gym, unidentifiable country music from a Central Oregon radio station hummed through the 'lowered windows. The west wind bent the top of the pine trees and wafted over-heated coolant from the front grill of the truck. A girl's legs hung from the passenger window and a shirtless teenager slouched in the bench seat. It was late summer 2012 in The Dalles.
"Should we tell them their engine overheated?" My mom said, leading her Irish Terrier, Lucy, down the sidewalk.
"No, Mom... let them be," I said, taking the leash from my mom's hand and continuing along.
It's hard to predict which moments come to identify a specific place or time, often it's the most seemingly trivial ones that capture my imagination and spark my sense of nostalgia.
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