North Palm Drive, where I spent a large chunk of my childhood.
The house itself was razed years ago and in its place a mini-manse built.
I lose my bearing, disorientated by many other such re-builds. Old neighborhoods are supposed to decay, not morph upmarket, right?
The pavements and lawns once teemed with more than twenty kids. None of us needed after-school programming because we spontaneously invented, on a daily basis, our own activities.