1959. Colorado.

So there we were in northern Colorado, in the fall of 1959. I’m told that we were greeted by ‘Welcome Lady’ Phyllis Mattingly and that I played with her son David in a ditch while she told Mom about our new home town. We looked for housing, visiting at least one house that I used to wish like mad we lived in (NW corner of Mountain & Shields), and settled on good old 512.

Our friends, the Brookses, were already in town, and they helped us get set up. It couldn’t have been too long after that that X-L-Art (Brooks’s company) employee Ron Kerr became Dad’s best friend. Ronnie made us a blue neon house number that we switched on with pride at night. Who wouldn’t be proud? 512!! A small house with three modest bedrooms, in the middle of town where it was easy to walk a handful of short blocks and be right at Al’s NewsStand. And many other places, I guess.

Hanging out a lot was a way of life. I felt fairly free about my right to go walking down the sidewalk and all the way around the block. I used to roam around and explore. I think I once walked right into the Straubs’s house when they weren’t there, gazed this way and that, and perhaps realized I shouldn’t be there, though that may be giving me too much credit at that point. I not only wasn’t unusually aware, I may even have been unusually unaware, or at any rate, not paying attention to the right thing.

We had at least one visit from Uncle Don & family in the early 1960s, and took their photo on the same front porch where we photographed ourselves. Dad and Uncle Don being hikers, we all went hiking. Better still, they hiked while we played Magic Police Boys (for some reason, not superheroes yet) in the obliging forest whose trees provided us with scenery and props, up to and including horses (horizontal trunks).

 

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