The kids at the lake seemed different. It was difficult to put my finger on it, but they seemed bolder. Not more mature, but more experienced, more independent. The adults around the lake weren’t so amused. Called them “lake rats.” But as a little kid, it was cool first meeting them.
What was it? I wondered. It took me a while to figure out.
I grew up in a small, rural community in a county with fewer than 10,000 people. Six hours south of Chicago. Three hours east of St Louis. Middle of nowhere. Everyone knew everyone.