604 West 24th
Street, Independence, MO - the house I grew up in and lived at for 20 years. From the outside it looked lived in and cozy
- bright Kelly green with black shutters, lush manicured lawn, powder blue 1965
Oldsmobile station wagon and a brown 1971 Ford Maverick, the first car I
learned to drive and owned until 1988.
When you entered the back gate, the long concrete patio gave way to a
huge backyard with a great hill to slide down during a snowstorm and day off
school. The garden was always full of
tomatoes, green beans, lettuce, and many other vegetables lovingly tended to by
my mom and dad. I had a tire swing in
the big oak tree that went out over the garden, a green swing set and blue and
silver slide. My gerbils, dog, cat, and
many fish were buried throughout the sides of the yard, protected by a silver
chain link fence. The fragrant lilac
bushes and magnolia trees filled the air in the spring and came wafting through
my window when the attic fan was rumbling above my bedroom.
The inside was
always spotless clean, my mother being the ultimate housewife. Walking in the door filled your nose with
scents of home baked bread and rolls, cookies and probably the best dinners
anyone could ever cook. It was very
dated in the furniture my mother chose - matching couch and love seat and two
wing chairs in the same blue color she loved.
Shag carpet that needed to be updated, wallpapered walls covered in the
most awful design I've ever seen. My
bedroom was down the hall, second door on the left, where my sister used to
live until she married and moved out.
Not everyday was
perfect in that house, but it holds many of my fondest memories growing up on
24th Street with my friends and family.
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