Conaway: This is my backyard, and now — all of now — has no place in it
Dan Conaway
Dan Conaway is a lifelong Memphian, fascinated and frustrated with his city, but still in love. A columnist since 2010, his distinguished advertising career has branded ribs in the Rendezvous and ducks in The Peabody, pandas in the zoo and Grizzlies in the NBA. Stories in Memphis tend to write themselves. He’s helped a few along. Two book collections of his columns have been published.
I’ve been thinking about my backyard lately.
Not currently, not lately, not even as a teenager or adult, but my first backyard, the one that shaped me in many ways, set my boundaries, defined my world: the yard behind 491 S. Highland St., neighborhood of Normal Station, Memphis, Tennessee, USA, Earth.
There was a fence around half of it, a pretty white board fence, and a one-room white clapboard studio at the back of that half on an ivy-covered rise. It had big double-hung windows — giant windows for a little boy — and a brick chimney.
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