My brother, John, and I spent most of our growing up years at 732 West Grand in Decatur, IL, moving there in 1945 when I was seven and John was five. I thought it was the prettiest house I had ever seen. One of the first things we did when Mom and Dad took us to see it was to crawl into the floor to ceiling built-in bookcase to see if we fit. We did. The house was a three bedroom Dutch Colonial with two stories and a huge screened-in porch in the front. Dad put up those huge wooden screens every spring and took them down each fall. I cried when Dad sold it during the summer of 1956.