Oddly enough, it may be my earliest intense memory. We're at the village park for a family reunion, I think, and it's fun--that much I remember. Then, for no particular reason, my mother's first cousin and some other faceless relative pick up my mother, one by her arms, the other by her feet, and swing her around somehow. They're just north a bit of the shelter house--I know exactly where they're standing, exactly, and it's more than fifty years ago.…
James SchaapJune 1, 2010