In the Fall of 1960 I walked thru that door to the rest of my life. From right after World War II until leaving for college my childhood was idyllic. Rural and bucolic, Norman Rockwell. Long before the smothering by mono culture or exurbs, or blogs for that matter.
I attended a four-room elementary school that was my father's high school. Lived amongst fine-looking farms. Caught mudcats in the fishing hole by the mill, and rode my bike to hear bluegrass pickin at Nichols garage. Chased after the volunteer firemen. Saw Junior Johnson run old jalopies at Summerduck Raceway. Mowed hay for Judd Covell, and rode my grandfathers old mule, Jake. Saw hand-cranked cars, and real steam engines. Played marbles in the cinders by the railroad depot. Found civil war relics. Helped butcher hogs, and raised Plymouth Rock chickens winning ribbons at the State Fair each year.
I experience again those days one photograph at a time.
Title: Brandy Door. r0040-13
Series: Old Home Place
Location: Brandy Station, Virginia
Date: Thursday 31 May 1984