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Personal Narrative: Mississippi River Of My Life

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People don't believe much anymore in warning dreams, fateful omens, prophesies and such-like. But just fifty years or so ago, along the Mississippi River of my youth, such notions were considered no more fanciful than believing in the wireless or the telephone today. Not everyone believed, of course: there were always those who judged such ideas to be nothing more than foolish superstitions. And truly, for a long time, I myself did not believe. When I was a young boy growing up on the river, I never worried much about the future. Till I was sixteen years old I had but one ambition: to follow in my Pa's footsteps and become a boat-show man. Yes, and that's just what I might've become—and a good one, too, I reckon—if I hadn't been showing off

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