Yakima, Washington sits just outside the Yakama (Native American) Reservation. I grew up in Yakima.
I began smoking cigarettes in Yakima. One of the great buys could be had just a couple of miles from my home on Ahtanum Road, conveniently on my way to work at Miner’s Drive In.
The Smoke Shack was a little bigger than today’s coffee huts, and every bit as convenient. Drive up. Order your smokes. Pick up a lighter. Drive away.
The price? Well, back then I think I paid about 35¢ to 50¢ a pack. A $5.00 carton. Eeegads! Can you imagine???
As a child I marveled on day excursions to the Yakima Valley. Wapato. Toppenish. Sunnyside. There were Pow-Wows where the tribe would dress, sing, share. Jewelry and beadwork drew my eye, but the presence of soft leather and woven baskets were my favorite. Conjuring the drums, soft dance, beautiful skin and facial features so different from my own brings me to childhood. I can still taste the fried bread slathered with butter and fruit jam.
I no longer buy cigarettes or eat fried bread slathered with butter and jam. The Yakamas? Well, they are firmly rooted in my heart.
Daily Prompt: Reservation
Photo Ahtanum Ridge from 5414 by Pat Strosahl