Longleaf Stories

full circle in the hundred acre wood

Envy competes with astonishment when I hear people describe their childhood memories in rich detail like they are touring a well-stocked library, pulling out volumes at will.

My childhood memory room is undecorated, nearly bare. At age 12, hit by the megaton blast of my father’s sudden fatal heart attack, I experienced a nuclear winter that seared my memory banks, leaving the past in ashes and the near future in clouds of unknowing. I have to concentrate and struggle to bring even snapshots of my childhood into focus.

The Snapshot category is a memory journal in black and white.

At Crandon Park, Miami Beach, about 1956, with Daddy and my brothers, Steve and Wally.

At Crandon Park, Miami Beach, about 1957, with Daddy and my brothers, Steve and Wally.

Speak. Leave a memory.

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