I grew up surrounded by veterans. Across the street and down the road, stood the dreamy houses that seemingly kept watch on those sometimes lonely walks home from school. Behind those curtained windows: what stories lay hidden? Perhaps, the block of housing was enchanted and locked in a time lapse. Was it still the 1940s up and down those stairs? Or did they dwell even further down into the past? What memories took hold and lingered into the living? Who were those folks? What did they see? What did they know? These were the questions my brother and I often had while walking past the line of housing for retired members of the Legion on the street opposite.
That's what I'll always remember.