A little about our apartment in Chamblee where I lived when I was little. Dad says that I remember these things about right. There was a grassy area behind the houses where we hung out clothes. I remember being on the ground floor. We started out living upstairs, but I don't remember that. Our doorway was to the left off an opening hallway. A living room with a window to the front, dining area to the back, kitchen behind that. Tile floor. A hallway off the living room to a furnace room or storage on the right. I had a robot that walked and had red flashing eyes and looked cool in the storage room in the dark. Two bedrooms. Yvonne and I both were in the back bedroom. I have no concept of my room. I remember the sidewalk, my tricycle, a stroller, a boxer dog that scared me who lived down the street, the ice cream man, a parking area or street behind our place, a big tree at the top of the street. I remember a trolley line coming by. The buses sparked as they moved along. And a hill up to an open area where we flew kites once and mine got away from me. Such a sad day. I remember skating on the sidewalk and finding a fifty cent piece in the parking lot. I got hit with a brick when some boys were throwing rocks. Philip and I both got a black eye when we ducked together and got hit with the same brick. The thrower must have felt mighty. He killed two with one blow. There is a picture of us with our matching shiners.

I've been thinking about all the places I ever lived and I can't remember that place very well. It was a little bigger than our seminary village apartment years later, our first home as a married couple.