History on doorstep

Revisiting a popular song of the mid-1950s called “The Green Door” prompted some thoughts about doors. The earliest door may have been a rock rolled in front of a cave or an animal skin hung across an opening to a tent-like shelter. The earliest depicted doors are found in paintings in some Egyptian tombs. Archaeologists have dated a door unearthed in Switzerland at 5,000 years old. Probably the earliest hinges were of leather or rope.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t close a screen door quietly. The slam is part of the package. A kitchen cabinet door left open magically becomes a magnet for a head or a knee. A doggie door can easily become a ratty door or a mousey door. Monsters sometimes hide behind behind a kid’s closet door. A door left open invites flies; a fly left open invites embarrassment. A revolving door is a trap for the unwary.

I suspect no sound is worse than hearing a jailhouse door clang shut behind you unless it’s the eerie sound of a screeching door in the darkness. Some doors are bossy, telling us to pull or push, while others are kinder and open themselves. A locked door may invite curiosity or produce anxiety. In one of his introductions to The

Twilight Zone, Rod Serling said, “You unlock this door with the key of imagination.” That same key will unlock a lot of other doors as well. The shortest horror story on record, credited to a writer named Frederic Brown, concerned a door: “The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.” The use of “man” instead of “person” shows that this was written some time ago.

And the best door in the world is the door on the refrigerator.

JOHN McPHERSON

Searcy