COLUMBIA, The Street The 1950s and 60s were happy years to grow up in America because it was a time when optimism flourished, and everything was an opportunity to be explored. This book is a glimpse of my early childhood memories in the small industrial city of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, where everything lives in my memory in sepia colors like the kind of photographs taken with my mother's old box camera. Things were perfect on Columbia Street unless there was a strike at the steel mill, and then things were not so good. I was the youngest of five kids. Doris was primarily out of the house when I was old enough to know her. She had gone to nursing school, and I remember her as being very pretty. When Doris was babysitting me, she would play the clarinet and sometimes sing jazz because I was the only audience who could appreciate her beautiful voice. Unfortunately, she also smoked cigarettes which would take her life at a young age. My brother Dick, as I remember him, was a tough guy but very inventive and creative, often creating games of skill for his younger siblings that he would referee and judge. Next came my identical twin brothers, Wayne and Bruce (in that order). They ruled the roost in our family during my early tenure. They focused on themselves, and everyone focused on them. The twins were into basketball and football, so that meant we often went to their practices and always went to their games. Since there was a six-year difference between the twins and me, I was "the caboose" (aka "The Baby"). In my baby scrapbook, my proud dad wrote, "Jimmy is the best baby in all America and Russia, too." This book is about my earliest memories up through about sixth grade. My brothers contributed their memories of those things that formed the culture of our family and our traditions that helped us become productive members of society. Our parents provided an abundance of love and instilled a sense of curiosity and imagination that made everything interesting. They offered a deep respect for the history of our country that has stayed with their children and grandchildren. Visiting many Civil War and Revolutionary War battlefields over the years was the best American history lesson. Pop could make the battlefield come alive with his narration of what took place where most people might only see trees and fields. Exploring the ruins of old iron furnaces is how we learned about the Industrial Revolution. We were taught to envision how the iron furnace process worked, from the mines in the hillside charging the top of the furnace to tapping the molten iron at the bottom. That is the kind of education and respect of a country that sticks with children and is passed to future generations. Mom and Pop also instilled a sense of patriotism, and we were very proud that my brothers Dick, Bruce, and Wayne all served in the US Navy. Whether we were fishing at state parks or simply having a picnic, Mom and Pop were always there to provide subtle lessons and patient advice. Our parents were very much involved in our lives, even while giving us the abundant freedom and encouragement to explore our world. It was a boundless environment they created that we didn't fully appreciate until we had children of our own. Mom and Pop intended to create a safe play area in our yard, and they succeeded with homemade swings, a teeter-totter, tents, basketball hoops, etc., and our yard tended to be the place where the entire "Berkley Hills" neighborhood gathered. Mom and Pop had gone to great lengths to make our home a destination for the neighborhood kids. So, imagination blossomed at our house on Columbia Street.