The Goldendale Sentinel - Headlines & History since 1879

Back doors remind me of good friends

Don't make me turn this car around

 


When I think of home, I think of two doors: the front and the back. I like the back door best.

Front doors remind me of solicitors. Back doors remind me of friends.

The back door carries a sort of comfort in its own right. It is where I often hear the familiar shave-and-a-haircut rhythmic taps from a neighbor. Even the dogs’ barks sound friendlier compared to the front.

When I was little, my friends and I spent countless summer days on our back porch. We played jacks, nibbled on our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and studied ladybugs. My parents’ friends somehow knew the back door was open for them, too—especially when they were greeted by the percolating aroma of Folgers comi...



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