When we were about half way across the U.S., I realized it would be cool to go see my old childhood home in Chatham Township, NJ after we visited my sister in Upstate New York.
As we approached the area, pulling the trailer through Morristown, I started to wonder if it was such a good idea. Not because of the narrow roads and traffic, but because it was becoming apparent that things are not always what they seem. In fact they never are in adulthood, especially when seemed long ago by the mind of a ten year old.
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