Memories of my last summer in Burlington, Mass., before we moved to Jacksonville, Fl., in 1966 kept flashing through my mind as I read your beautifully written essay. Our life on Leopold Street was as idyllic as any kid could ask for and though I have not seen my neighborhood buddies since that afternoon when we left for Florida, there have been countless times in the intervening years that I have closed my eyes and thought of those days and I am forever eleven years old playing little league baseball at the park and pick up sandlot baseball down by the bowling alley, swimming in our small above ground pool and camping out in the backyard, catching turtles and bull frogs at Murray’s pond, picking wild blackberries and bringing them home for mom to make muffins for the gang, playing hop scotch, kickball, dodgeball in the street and croquet in the front yard, hiking through the woods where wandering minds and spirits could spend a whole afternoon exploring and only travel a few blocks and after supper going for bike rides until the street lights came on signaling it was time to head home where we had to play in the yard until it was time to come inside. For the life of me, I just don’t think it could have been any better and I have never doubted those moments were real and with the passage of time more precious and sweet.
Thank you Frank Christopher for having the presence of mind to capture that moment of light and time which would touch countless souls and you Michael for sharing Frank’s humanistic masterpiece of photography.
