In the summer of 1967, I was 9 years old and we had only lived at Sherman for three years. We were blissfully ignorant about Alaska’s capricious weather, and little did we know that this was going to be a summer none of us would ever forget. Our house still had a flat tarpaper roof. … Continue reading Summer 1967: Who’ll Stop the Rain?
Summer 1967: Who’ll Stop the Rain?
