The forlorn, former home of Cans ‘n’ Stuff The street on which I was raised runs nearly three quarters of a mile, a straight line along its entire length. We lived almost dead center, whence I could pedal my bike a satisfying distance in either direction. On the west end of the avenue lived Big..
Born during the Depression and raised in the years of scarcity that lasted through WWII, my father was accustomed to amusing himself by inventing games using whatever materials were at hand. He played war by tossing coins onto his bed, pennies as privates and higher denominations representing officers. Those that landed face-down were killed in..