We lived in a farm house at the corner of 95th and Switzer Rd. when I was a kid and there was an open field that led down to a creek that ran very shallow in dry weather but would roar bank full in a heavy rain. The water over the years had cut the rich dirt to maybe twelve to fifteen feet deep, and trees grew along the bank getting nourishment from the stream. Some of the trees were huge old cotton wood trees and one such tree could be seen due East from the house. It grew so close to the bank that over the years the water had cut dirt back from under it and huge roots grew strait down to what ever soil it could cling to. We would go down the bank and crawl back underneath this monster of a tree and dig back under it to make a larger room to hide in. Kind of a club house for me and my buddies where we could do things we weren’t supposed to do. The tree was probably sixty feet tall and weighed many tons but we were sure it would stay put and not fall on us though it did inter my mind a time or two. One day one of us found a yellowed note tuck in a crack in the dirt that had words scribbled on it that said there was a buried treasure close by. We were excited to say the least. The note said that they were under Indian attack and only had a little time to write the note, but there was buried treasure in the field not far from the farm house and who ever found the note could have it all. We were jumping up and down with visions of gold doubloons dancing in are heads. We couldn’t tell anyone because they would take the map and claim it for themselves. We read it over and over finely someone said Hey, this map has ninety fifth and Switzer on it. I said so what …..weeelll there was no ninety Fifth and Switzer when the Indians were around here…. I guess there were some other boys under that tree long before us…….