Dedicated, with fond memories, to my brother, John, who shared most of this tale, and to my three daughters, Marcia, Lynne, and Laura, who, of course, couldn't.
I want to explain why I have taken the time to write this
brief memoir of my youth in the then small town of
The first reason I suppose is simply that having been born in 1934, thus no longer a spring chicken, I want to recapitulate those times for myself, taking this nostalgic trip alone. The picture is still remarkably vivid to me though I suppose my id has redacted some unpleasant things in order that I may more thoroughly enjoy the journey, not completely unlike the way an adolescent boy quickly learns to skim a long novel looking for the “good parts.”
Another reason is my regret since my parents’ deaths at
having known so little about their
youth. Both were born and raised in
And the last reason is because my three children were raised
Finally, I should say here in the beginning that this little story is not especially self revelatory, just a collection of anecdotes. My focus is on the period, but I suppose that to some extent one becomes the period one grew up in.