Growing up

Runnemede, New Jersey was my kind of town...small, close-knit. Right on "The Pike." For those of you who aren't familiar with Runnemede, other than it's an exit off the New Jersey Turnpke, "The Pike" is the Blackhorse Pike. "The Pike" cuts Runnemede in half. No longer are the railroad tracks the dividing point in the town, nor, were they ever, I don't believe.

I wasn't born in Runnemede, but my dad became pastor of Mt. Calvary Union Church -- located on Clements Bridge Road (another town divider) in 1944, so at the tender age of one year and a few months I became a resident of Runnemede.

The first thing I remember was a hurricane that occurred in the fall of 1944 and yes, even though I was only one, I remember a couple of things about that event -- first the property where the parsonage was located lost two wild cherry trees -- they just plummeted to the ground, barely missing the house. And, second, I remember that the lights went out and we were huddled in the kitchen around the stove -- oven on -- to keep warm -- I guess it wasn't a very tropical temperature even though it was a hurricane.

The next thing I remember is...