Back to Ohio

I went back to Ohio…and my house was gone. What an odd feeling. I have so many great memories of the factory, power-planted, weeping-willowed neighborhood of my youth. And some bad ones too. One hundred twenty-five shattered garage-door windows from playing driveway tennis. And, of course, an at-the-time-seemed-creepy-but-in-reality-was-just-a-normal-super-old-lady lived next door. When it rained, her yard flooded. We rafted.

Today, revisit your childhood home—on foot or through photos. Capture an afternoon in your Destination Journal.