I had the good fortune of growing up in Frederick, not too far from the road that leads to the mansion. We lived just up the hill from great friends, Jon and Mary Jane Davis. Frederick holds lots of meaning and great memories for me. There has been at least one member of my family living there since 1943. My parents still live there. I hate to sound like a repeat of the others, but it was such a fun place to live when we were kids. Riding your bike to the other end of town in the summer when the pork rind trailer was down on the corner, sledding on Rebmans hill, spending hours on end in the woods without a worry at all. It was where Dad started my brother and I hunting and fishing and taught us more about it than I can remember now. I remember when I was about 10 years old, quite a few of us got to go into the mansion and look around. It still had all of the antiques displayed, the big table in the dining room, all of the Tiffany lamps. And Janey and Julie Davis, my brother Scott and I all going up on the roof and looking out over the entire bottom. It’s an amazing view for sure!