As I turn towards 86 years, I like others of my age are brought like you have to memories triggered by something so small as a bookmark, or as large as an article in a magazine. I subscribe to Archaeology Magazine. The most recent one gave me a wonderful memory.
An in-depth article on the Bronze Age and Neolithic villages on stilts on Alpine lakes brought me right back to the 6th grade and the decision to study archaeology when I grew up. As a child growing up in a small town in northern Vermont more than 70 years ago, I read everything I could from the small local library. I was fascinated by the stories of people who built houses and made homes on the lakes. I still remember the drawings. It was my first introduction to the different ways people lived way back in the past and drew me to my career. I can still see the brick walls next to the wooden stairs that creaked when you went to the book scented back room to find a new treasure to read. No matter that the books were from the 20' and 30's. They were filled with stories of far off places and far off times. I was transported to the imaginary and the real, far from my simple small town. Oh how I wished to travel to those places and experience them. And, guess what, I did do just that after I grew up.
As I turn towards 86 years, I like others of my age are brought like you have to memories triggered by something so small as a bookmark, or as large as an article in a magazine. I subscribe to Archaeology Magazine. The most recent one gave me a wonderful memory.
An in-depth article on the Bronze Age and Neolithic villages on stilts on Alpine lakes brought me right back to the 6th grade and the decision to study archaeology when I grew up. As a child growing up in a small town in northern Vermont more than 70 years ago, I read everything I could from the small local library. I was fascinated by the stories of people who built houses and made homes on the lakes. I still remember the drawings. It was my first introduction to the different ways people lived way back in the past and drew me to my career. I can still see the brick walls next to the wooden stairs that creaked when you went to the book scented back room to find a new treasure to read. No matter that the books were from the 20' and 30's. They were filled with stories of far off places and far off times. I was transported to the imaginary and the real, far from my simple small town. Oh how I wished to travel to those places and experience them. And, guess what, I did do just that after I grew up.
Memories are stories......and you are a wonderful storyteller, Eddie!!