We moved lock, stock and barrel from the city of Rochester to the suburb of Greece in 1957. 302 Fetzner Road was to be my home for the next thirteen years. Before we actually moved into our first single-family home, my father would drive us all out to see the house under construction on week.ends. I remember the smell of the raw-sawn wood and felt intoxicated by it. Our soon-to-be backyard was still pretty rough with weeds and construction dirt, but it seemed like an endless opportunity to explore and get lost in. The yard backed up to a huge swath of empty land that one day was supposed to be a six-lane highway connecting Greece to Rochester. It looked like someone had tried to excavate this land but then abandoned it. Large piles of dirt dotted the lot, and it was overgrown with weeds and spindly small trees trying to make a go of it.
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