Day Dreaming of Strazi’s of Greenville

The truth about Strazi’s in Greenville Missisissippi was it was just a beer joint, but it was the only place we had to go and it was a focal point of activity and teen drama.

I have many fond memories of the place. But it was just a beer joint, however lofty a perch it might attain in the minds and memories of all of us that littered the parking lot with our brain cells scatterred among the Pabst cans. People drank there, got in their cars and died.

Young lives senselessly lost.

This mythology of Strazi’s, of which I am a willing participant, is the reverse of Julius Caesar, the good living on, the evil often interred within the bones of memory.

I was one of the lucky ones who only have fun memories of that place. But those memories have a dark edge.

Ones I don’t like thinking about.

No one does.

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Explore posts in the same categories: Growing up, July 09, ramdom thoughts, stories

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