Lincoln Highway

I was listening to a radio program about the Lincoln Highway which was the first road that went from NYC to California. My Grandfather Edward Giltz lived on the Highway in Massillon Ohio. Their house was a magical place to me. He was a 'keeper' from the Depression time and you wouldn't get rid of something good because someone might need it sometime.
The house was always an interesting configuration to me. I finally found out after many years that Grandpa built it but then for some reason they had to turn it... so that what had been the front looked out onto the garden and the neighbor's house. The front room was small and they had added a door and porch. It finally made sense.
What do we do with memories of such places. I have pictures here or there with my Grandfather, (my Grandmother died when I was 4 and I have only small memories of her) and his garden. He had some beautiful plants, always an amarillis or two, and other really beautiful plants. He also had some grapes that were delicious.
At night sleeping in my Dad's old room the trucks would come down the hill the house was on and shift down, grinding, and sometimes almost shaking the house. I remember it as wonderful. My mother said it kept her awake every night. My Dad's room had an old beautiful sleigh bed and one of those antique bookcase with shelves, a desk and it was wonderful. I miss that still.
The Lincoln Highway memories bind me to my family, now all gone. But in my memory they abide.
God abides
Bobbie Giltz McGarey
@2007