Recently a fellow member of the choir passed on a 2004 booklet chronicling my town's history. I didn't know much about the town that is my home until I moved into it ten years ago. In the past two or three years, however, my understanding of what used to be here or there has started to accelerate. So I was grateful to receive a publication that gave me some additional insight about businesses and houses that have disappeared.
My most pleasant surprise, however, was how my son took to this book. He found it on the table yesterday morning and apparently pored over it until he had to go to school. When I expressed some surprise at this, my wife simply reminded me he was my son. So, this morning we did our first history walk. We took the book with us, strapped my daughter on my back (she can still just barely go in the kid carrier I have) and we walked about town for the better part of an hour, aligning photos with buildings. It was really one heck of a way to spend a Saturday. Therapeutic, in fact, after what was a miserable week at work.
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