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  • I remember moving a lot, so that each of my oldest ten memories seems of a different place.

    I remember visiting the hospitals in Ogden and Logan, Utah, when my sisters were born.

    I remember falling in the ditch and floating through the culvert in front of our house in Hyrum on water day, and the excitement it stirred up.

    I remember playing with my brother, Richard, who was always Richard until we were grown, and people outside the family imposed “Dick”, and we let it happen.

    I remember Richard falling in Flat Creek when we tried to pull up cattails from the bridge.

    I remember the day he and I set the hillside on fire with the matches Dad stashed under the burn barrel, and half the town of Jackson rushed in to help put it out. We lived in a log house.

    I remember we filled the gas tank of Dad’s car with water from the hose, just like he did at the gas station across the creek, to save him a trip.

    I remember the time we had to move away to a friend’s house by Snow King, because a giant cornice of ice had formed directly above our house.

    I remember going further than usual up the hill for sliding on cardboard strips, and watching Richard slide really fast under the barbwire fence and across Flat Creek where it was frozen completely over.

    I remember planting trees, lots of them, all over “the property”, and later pulling up quite a few, being under orders and mistaking them for weeds.

    I remember missing the first “jump-off” station on the Snow King chairlift, and having to ski conditions well beyond my 6-year-old skills, just to get to the bottom of the mountain…and into the parking lot, and across the street, before I could stop.
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