There are so many interesting aspects of writing a memoir. Some are funny and/or surprising, and some are frustrating as can be. I’m always amazed at what I thought I knew that I really didn’t or had wrong. One example is that I thought my father left for a new job in Anchorage in 1972, with us joining him the following year. Yet now I’m not so sure. It could be he went to Anchorage in early 1973 with us following him around August 1973. Hmmm…
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