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My old neighborhood of Scenic Hills in Memphis, where I grew up. You can read my initial thoughts about the re-visit here, proving that you can go home again but it's not home anymore. But it was fun to think about the old days. "That's the house whose front porch we used when the bus was late and it was raining." "Here's the hill Scott spun 360 degrees when he hit a patch of ice. Stacy got out and walked the last few blocks."
Entering Ancroft Cove, where I grew up from May of '81 to May of '91, from five to fifteen years of age.
3229 Ancroft Cove, our home, although without nearly as much well-manicured shrubbery. As if that could survive with four kids! I spent most of my youth living in the upstairs bedroom with the window on the left, except there was a tree right outside so I could climb down. I never did, but I could have!
The neighborhood lake is not exactly looking spiffy. In our day the water lapped right up the bank where I was standing.
Looking the same as always on the outside, Scenic Hills grocery was where we rode our bikes to pick up soft drinks and bouncy balls, and Mom picked up her meats from Mr. Latham. He's not there anymore, and the inside looks nothing like it used to. The rows of high-stacked shelves are gone, and you can see from one end to another, making it look even smaller and dingier. The counter is actually above customers and you have to reach over and through an opening to pay the cashier who sits behind protective glass. Sad.
The walkway next to the road where we used to walk to school, the grocery and everywhere else. As you can see, we were well protected from cars by that rocky barrier.
Scenic Hills Elementary, where I was The Man. Legendary. Then came seventh grade.
Raleigh-Egypt Middle School. No longer The Man. I became The Awkward Adolescent. Not good times.
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