my other house

As long as I'm setting place, which seems to important to the story, I might as well describe the 2nd house that I remember. From around age 11 to 16, I lived on Casco Point in Navarre. The church built a brand-new parsonage right next door to the church. It was square shaped, with redwood siding, and very modern. Also expensive, early 1960's standards, at $40,000. I believe there were some church members who objected to building such an expensive house for the pastor.

This house was at the end of a short street off Casco Point. There were only a few houses on this street, maybe 5, and in front of our house was the turn-around with a grassy island in the middle, a small hill. You'd call it a cul-de-sac now, but we didn't know that word in 1963. We just thought it was cool. Between our house and the church, and behind our house, were what I called woods, although it was probably fewer trees than it seemed to me then. We were free to play in the woods as we liked. There was one winter when it snowed so much that the path my dad shoveled between our house and the church had walls of snow on each side that were taller than me.

While I don't remember the furnishings of home #1, in this house we went with Danish Modern. We had a huge round teak coffee table, with an abstract orange glass vase in the middle of it. At Christmas time, my mom put a big Nativity set on it, with foot-tall figures. I thought our modern house and our Danish modern furniture were way cooler than my friends' places.