Man, did the memories of my childhood come flashing back when I read this and saw the great photos. J.R. teaching me how to catch a football with my hands instead of trapping it against my body. Bobby playing baseball and football with us in the backyard with as much enthusiasm as us. Watching J.R. --- seemingly the smallest guy on the varsity team -- slither through the opponent’s offense from his linebacker position and hitting harder than anyone I ever saw hit. Watching the big parties they had on the weekends from my upstairs window next door -- way past my bedtime. JR bringing over a nice size trout he caught off of a dock in Lake George to show my father and me. Michael yelling out his window to my dad telling him how much the daily double paid at Belmont. Kulinski, their black and white sheep dog, who I grew up with. JR collecting for his Post-Star deliveries. Shooting baskets in the rim hung up in the old garage in the backyard that eventually had to be torn down. Sitting on the porch with Mary Jane and Katie Culligan. Getting to know all the older “cool” kids who came to the King house in a constant rotation, guys like Jack Miles and his Dutch clog shoes and guys with names like Gizzy and J.D. Watching Bobby play special teams for Fort Edward football and hoping I could play some day, too. Learning how to throw a baseball with Mark LaPan as Colleen yelled encouragement. Annie playing wiffle ball with us. Nancy cheering at the high school basketball games. All the cars from that era parked in front of their house. If I remember right, Carol had a cool little VW. Hearing the Beatles’ Penny Lane for the first time blasting from their house on McCrea St. Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. There beneath the blue suburban sky I sit and meanwhile back…. Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes. There beneath the blue suburban skies, Penny Lane