I was born in Raleigh, NC and spent my early years there with my mom, my grandmother (Mama Ida), an aunt and an uncle. My father had been killed in the war, just before I was born, and it would be a few more years before mom met and married Daddy George, who became like a real Daddy to me.
But while in Raleigh, one of my great joys and memories was feeding the pigeons in the park on the state capital grounds.
Mama Ida worked at the Division of Motor Vehicles and I often stopped by to visit, where I was treated to gum and candy by my grandmother’s co-workers, then given a nickel to go to the park. I went by myself while Mama Ida was still at work.
There was an old man in the park who sold peanuts – a nickel a bag. They were packed in small paper sacks, and he kept them warm in some sort of cart.
Armed with the bag of warm peanuts, I found a nearby bench and set up shop.
The pigeons knew a good thing when they saw it and flocked to my feet, begging for handouts, which I dutifully distributed. I would shell the peanuts, break them up into halves and hold out my hand. Reluctant at first, the pigeons circled, then finally could no longer resist the temptation and began to peck the nuts from my hand. Next, they were in my lap, on my shoulders and all over me, awaiting the next goober.
There were also squirrels at the state capitol park. Lots of squirrels. They also gathered around hoping for a nut or two and I once – only once – made the mistake of holding out my hand with a peanut. The squirrel bit the fool out of my hand. Blood and everything.
Even today, I love to feed and watch birds, most any birds. Seeing a clutch of juvenile bluebirds come to my feeder for some juicy mealworms is a genuine pleasure. I wish I could train them to eat from my hand.
But squirrels? They can fend for themselves!