This is a fictional account of the experiences of a boy in the 1940s growing up in the only home in town without electricity. The central character is not me, though I have spent some time in cottages and camps that did not have electrical power.
The tale was inspired by a real house not far from the grammar school where I spent grades one through six (from 1949 to 54) in a seaside town in Massachusetts called Beverly. As I walked to school each morning, I looked carefully for a sign of life. I never saw the occupants of the sad little home which looks very much like the one that I selected for the cover.
It was certain that someone was living in the property, for in cold weather wood smoke could be seen rising from the chimney. There was no car in the yard and I never saw people coming or going, or even peering out the window.
I wondered what life was like for them. Did they have a child? If so, was his life the way I imagine it in my story?
