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With its two-story wooden frame houses and large wrap-around porches, Chesterfield Avenue was pretty much like every other neighborhood around the Lancaster city limits.
On muggy nights, neighbors walked about to enjoy the slightly cool summers breezes, which rarely blew.
Aglow with the flicker of a about a half dozen citronella candles, our side porch became a gathering place. It’s hard to rock and carry on a decent conversation when swatting at “skeeters.”
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