Do It for DaddyBy
by Melinda Narro Brown
I hate driving down Woodrow Wilson in Jackson. Eventually, I’ll come to the intersection where Veteran’s Memorial Stadium stares out at me and forces my right turn signal. My car automatically circles the stadium, and I reminisce of years gone by—years when I was introduced to football. I can taste the turkey sandwich my mother brought for our tailgate lunch, and I can hear my brother screaming, ”I’m open” for my dad to throw the football across the parking lawn. I hate it … because I miss those days.