I still haven’t heard from the printer. Maybe I shouldn’t have called them stupid and officious.
Did I show this from my Baby Book? Six years old at the end of first grade.
My old man came home one day late September that year. He said “We’re moving to Florida.” That was that. He had been badly injured in an industrial accident, and he was in constant pain. The cold weather was hard on him. The trailer was a 25 foot Alma. We missed the turn to Bradenton and ended up in Ft. Lauderdale. Well, not Ft. Lauderdale exactly. It was actually Berg’s trailer park on the edge of a swamp. I was pretty miserable. I’ll tell you about it sometime.