No Better Place to Grow Up

The strongest memories at the end of my life will be of Sunday afternoons in my parents' front yard on South Carolina Avenue SE. A few minutes each before and after going to a Washington Football game with my dad, in the first couple decades of the 21st Century, when they were still known by a different name. In September, it was bright and hot out when we left for a 1 PM game, and still light out afterwards. Later in the year, we'd get back after dark. Either way, I'll remember the sounds, smells, and feeling of our corner of Southeast Capitol Hill in the late summer and early fall. There's no better place to grow up.

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