Submitted by Anthony Foster:

It was not until I left Gamboa in l969 and did a little traveling that I realized what a wondrous place this was.

Notwithstanding the segregation, and Jim Crowism which existed until l964. Those of us who grew up there, had a special kinship.  Christmas in Gamboa was always a wonderful time; the lights in the windows, the odor of cakes baking and other foods cooking, promoted a very special feeling.

Everybody were your parents, Mr. Walters at the railroad station, Ivan Wade at the gas station, Mr. French, Ms. Sober fried Yucca, those thick cookies from the clubhouse, We use to take peoples Canoe or flat bottom boat & go across the Canal to the West bank, and exploring the forest behind my house was always fun.

I remember leaving school & going down the New Road towards the US ARMY ammo dump to get those yellow plums.

Buying chance from Mr. Joshua and Harris Hinds, the Teen Club,listening to the latest songs, Bob Dillon's like a ROLLING STONE was D4 I believe.

I lived on 275 in Dustbowl. I always loved the scent of those purple flowers around Easter time. I really miss the earthy scent of the jungle up by COLD WATER.

ajf