I grew up in the white farmhouse in the foreground, from age 0 ⓠ12 (1974 ⓠ1986). My father was born in that house on August 23, 1948, so it had a very special place in our family. The house was torn down shortly after we moved on New Year's Day 1987. My Great Uncle and Aunt built and lived in the 1-story brick house behind it, and owned the roughly 40 acres of property it sat on. They let my family (my parents and 3 siblings) live in the farmhouse for free. It was old and drafty, but it was a wonderful place to grow up. My Aunt and Uncle had several head of cattle, chickens and one horse for a while. At this writing (November 2017), they are both still alive, and in their 90s. They sold the house about 4 years ago, and are currently living in an assisted living home. My Great Uncle is a WWII Army Veteran who fought in Normandy on D-Day. The vehicle parked right behind the farmhouse in the photo was a rusty old 1948 Chevy truck. Dad bought it to restore, but never got around to it. The black dot a few feet behind the truck was our trash burning barrel. The small tree in the very center of the photo, next to the driveway and halfway between the farmhouse and my Uncle's house, was a buckeye tree. In the 70s, the farmhouse had a huge oak tree right off the left front porch pillar. You can still see the stump in the photo. The 3 bushes along the driveway between the lane and the farmhouse were beautiful white and pink peonies. We always had a nice big garden (just to the right of the farmhouse). I spent a lot of time pulling weeds as a child.