Many of us, but certainly not all, still get flood of bittersweet memories as we recall the home and neighborhood in which we grew up. I am a hopelessly sentimental person. As I look at that house I grew up in and the neighborhood in which I grew up, very warm memories seem to be a harbinger of what life must be like in that place we call "heaven." That old house had a front porch adjoining our numerous next door neighbors who lived there over the years from the Arena, Saxton, and Sneath families; all of whom were like family to the Glover's. Those front porches are gone now, replaced by ugly closed in porches that cut out their neighbors. On at typical summer day you would find us kids playing "catch five," "rummy," or many other rainy day games, including "spin the bottle" with our many neighborhood girl friends. So sorry folks, I get carried away with these memories some time and I will desist and cease to bore you!