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I saw a documentary or special on TV a few years ago, the subject being William Shatner returning to Montreal to revisit his origins. He was prematurely sad at the time about reaching "the end" while reminiscing about the beginning. He went to the local playhouse where he got his first stage time and "tread these very boards." Then he went to his childhood home, a small but nice residential house, and knocked unannounced. The current residents let him in for a look around. I can't find any reference to this show on the Net. Anybody?
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I have gone by my childhood home on occasion. My parents sold it several years ago when their house became a bona fide empty nest. It was a bit disheartening to see some of the changes the new owners made to the exterior of the house. There were a couple of beautiful trees in the front yard that they ripped out, as well as changing much of the other landscaping, and not for the better, so it is a bit of an eyesore. On the other hand, there were some things that were definitely a product of its time that they removed and updated. So, nice to drive by, but changed enough so that it isn't home anymore, which is probably for the best.
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Generally not recommended. Especially if you move out from a city and go back.
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Yes, in fact, just a few years ago I went back to the area where I lived from when I was 6 to about 8 (I moved around a bit when I was a child, so I have more than one "childhood home"). Was very interesting to see the very same house (which was new when I lived there) now decades later (still well kept). Interestingly, on one neighbor's mailbox was still the same name. I am not an overly nostalgic person, but I enjoyed the brief time-travel, remembered the old horse I was feeding with apples on my way to school... Great. I just took a look at it from the outside though, did not bother to see who now lives there. :-)
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Posted: |
Sep 11, 2018 - 5:56 AM
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By: |
Graham Watt
(Member)
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I find all this stuff fascinating. We moved out of my (first) childhood home when I was about eight or nine years old, and it's amazing how vivid and accurate memories are during those formative years. I can still picture absolutely every little detail of it, inside and out. We were poor so lived in an old tenement with a shared toilet halfway down the outside communal stairs (no bath or luxuries like that). There was a back yard for about 100 neighbours though, with communal wash-houses, and an iron foundry beyond the high, forbidden brick wall. It was all a world of wonder even if it sounds horrific. As I say, we moved out when I was eight or nine (so, 1969 or thereabouts). In my mid-teens, I walked back to that area just to see the old house, and it was being demolished to make way for a new shopping centre. It was quite shocking to see the exposed insides (with the same wallpaper!), like in old photos you see of the Blitz. I have no photos of that old house. It wasn't the kind of place where people would think of taking photos. But I have spent a lot of time matching up my memories of what was where in the surrounding area, by using online old maps. There are dozens of them which I can scrutinize, going all the way back to the early 19th Century. So I can see what was there before the house was built (in about 1900), and just by clicking on, say, the 1965 map, I can see the street plans of my route to school, the woodlands where I used to play, the railway line we used to play on (I got my arse skelped for that), the disused quarry where we'd go swimming (I can hardly believe I did all that). And then I'll go to Google Maps/ Streetview / Bing Maps and superimpose a "today" image over what it used to be like. Most of it is unrecognisable, but you'll still get to see some remnants of a garden wall, or a gateway to a park that hasn't changed in literally a hundred years. I also visited my first primary school. It had been changed into offices, but the exterior of the building remained unchanged, with the entrances above the two main doorways carved in ornate, daunting letters, "Girls" and "Boys". I love all that kind of stuff. I'm not sure what it says about me as a person, if anything, but it's a big passion of mine.
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Posted: |
Sep 11, 2018 - 6:31 AM
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By: |
Hurdy Gurdy
(Member)
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I've lived in 3 houses in my life. The first was from 1965 to 1975 (Norris Green, Liverpool). We moved to a much nicer house and area in 1975 (Fazakerley, Lpool), but I would still go back to Noggsy (local slang for the old area) to play with old mates there (it was about 10 minutes by bus or bike). Years later, if I was driving past or through Norris Green, I would take a slight detour to pass the old place, for reasons of which I have no idea, but it would give me a strange feeling...sometimes sad, sometimes happy, sometimes melancholy. Then, one time I drove by and the whole block had been levelled!! Nothing but barren land. It was weird at first, like I thought I must have taken a wrong turn or something. I never went back after that. Then I moved outta the 2nd family home to live with the missus in the 90's, in a house we still share. That 2nd house was sold after my mum and dad died and I haven't passed by it in years. It's the one I have the most vivid memories of too. I got my own bedroom, while my two sisters had to share I LOVED that bedroom. It looked out onto a massive park with trees at the bottom of our garden. It housed all my magic stuff...record player, LP's then CD's comics, books, collectibles. I even made room for a bed. I used to be a lot more nostalgic about it, but the grandkids (let's call them Tornadoes In The Barracks) and holidays now take up a LOT of our time (not that we're complaining!!!)
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Posted: |
Sep 11, 2018 - 7:19 AM
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By: |
Thor
(Member)
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I lived in so many locations during my childhood I can't say one home is my "childhood home". My parents were always on the move. I beginning to wonder if the mafia wasn't after my old man. Same here. I have 6 childhood homes (and after that, my parents moved to a 7th in the mid 2000s), in three different cities. But I'm obviously closer to some of them than others. Especially the home from my formative years (ca. 1988-2003 -- although I moved out in 1996), I have a particularly close connection to. This house -- which my father built from scratch on a hilltop -- is still in the same city where my parents live now, but it was sold in the early 2000s. Whenever I'm in my hometown, I sometimes take a stroll to that part of town, and throw a casual glance at it. Obviously, I can't get inside, and it doesn't look good to the new owners if I stand outside and stare at it. But I can get a brief nostalgic 'boost' if I'm in the neigbourhood. This house and its interiors (especially my room at the time) often appears in my dreams. Here's an aerial photo that was taken sometime in the mid 90s (the one with a red roof, obviously):
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