We drove by this house today so that I could show my two middle boys where I grew up. One of my earliest memories occurred on our first night in this house. I was four years old, and we were moving from Maryland to this house in Johnson City, Tennessee. My mom and I slept on the floor I think because we arrived before the moving truck.
You couldn't see the mountains from the house, but it was only a mile or two from the foot of Buffalo Mountain, and you could see it just after pulling out of the driveway.
I have 20 years of memories here - good and bad. We spent Christmases here with my parents and grandparents and later on with a boyfriend. I used to play out back by myself and neighbor kids, and later I would lie out in the sun. We would sled down the hill out front, and I would climb on the trees.
When it was finally sold in the 1980s sometime, I was happy to move on. My mom and aunt bought a condo around the corner, and my dad lived across town with his new wife. I was on my own, working for a local newspaper and soon to be moving to Georgia.
It's funny that I'm feeling nostalgic now, and realizing that our dream home here in Georgia has many similarities.