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I’ve heard that one mostly remembers the good times. It is true about much of the early life that I can remember from the late 1940s to the mid-1950s.
That period, and to a large extent, somewhat later, was in the same house with a stable family of mother, father, and older sister. I was friends with the girl next door. We were going to play “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” in her garage until her father interrupted us. I never found out about hers. I was friends with three or four kids within a couple of blocks. We’d visit without any particular activity in mind. For a while, a mixed group of us played softball behind our house until the property owner chased us out.
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