Over the weekend, my husband and I took a drive through the alley behind the best house he lived in while growing up. The photo above shows what is left of its garage.
Through hearing about my husband’s childhood, I learned that I hadn’t truly been poor. There had been times my family had relied on the corner pay phone. We burned through a series of used cars whose idling engines sounded like Billy Joel songs. Throughout it all, we had a toilet that flushed and toilet paper. My husband’s family had neither until they moved into the house with the alley garage.