Rolling Hills

<p>The old farmhouse where I was born in the early morning hours of Wednesday September 27 1933 at 12:30 a.m. stood firm for 130 years until the summer of 2019 when it was razed to make way for a new smaller modern structure. The old house which I knew so well continues to be quite visible on the memory screen of my still-viable mind. In the following pages I will share some of that structure's uniqueness. It was more than a place just to live and grow. It was where I first learned what it means to be part of a family part of a family that works together cares for each other and knows what it is to be a responsible human being. I may not have always followed what I knew was right but I did not flout those early teachings with impunity.</p>