#Slice of Life 2013 # 26 of 31 Sunoco and the Mesopotamia River

It started with restless children in a car that forever lacked a video player. The sun had set and thus the time for reading, playing, drawing and other entertainments had expired when he began.  "Did I ever tell you about Sunoco?" he queried the backseat. They quieted instantly. "Well, he began slowly," there was this Indian named Sunoco. It was clear to me, the other adult in the car, that he had absolutely no idea where this story was going as the main character was clearly named after the garage station we had just passed; however, the folks in the backseat sat with rapt attention waiting for the tale to unfold.  Over the years, Sunoco (who I suspect might have been more Native American than Indian) had some pretty amazing adventures traversing up, down, and over the "hills" of the Mesopotamia River!  He was often discussed as if he were a member of our family heritage and chapters of his story were plentiful until the people in the back seat started to forge their own paths through life, making their own stories.    

Amazingly, we were driving by Pizza Hut when we heard of his adventures getting a burger at some deer-meat spot referred to as the Hut and we had just past the South Hills Mall when we heard of his trading furs for wampum adventures at the (amazingly named) South Hills Trading Post.  At one point of his life, Sunoco mourned his Grandfather, and those in the backseat connected as they knew the pain of losing a Grandmother; Later, he found solace in family members, cousins, who shared his grief and showed him that life would go on, even if it was different.  Sunoco played stick ball with friends whenever he could (my own children loved wiffle ball with the neighbors) and rode a Flintsone-esque vehicle that sure sounded a lot like the Hot Wheels in our driveway; thus, we all seemed to "connect" to his tales of adventure.  The folks in the backseat seemed to remember where we left off and never questioned Sunoco's family heritage.  I often wanted to put the stories to paper or record them for the memories; however, I never did.  As the images of Sunoco and his adventures in Mesopotamia fade, I really wish I had.