Around 1955, maybe a little earlier, a new family moved into the house catty-cornered from ours across the street. He was a handsome, narcissistic construction body builder and his wife was a pretty, very thin beautician. They had a baby not more than a year old, and I remember that they were very nice to my brother Macbeth and me. I wish now I had asked my dad about them because something happened tghat put an end to the socializing between them, my family, and our neighbors that became the catalyst for their moving away. I had always thought that our neighbor Jean had had an affair with the man across the street and that all hell had broken loose when the beautician caught them together.