I started to write when I was in the second grade. When I grew up, he taught me the songs and stories he knew about the Adirondacks. In the fall and winter, I would sit around the wood stove and listen to the local farmers and lumberjacks tell tall tales. I helped out as much as I could, ringing up purchases on the cash register and washing customers’ cars and windows. I loved my grandparents’ little general store. He told me that his father never spanked him, but would only talk to him when he misbehaved. He showed me how to walk quietly in the woods and how to fish. He could barely read and write, but I remember him as one of the kindest people I ever knew. My grandfather, Jesse Bowman, was of Abenaki Indian descent. It’s because of her that I was always reading. Although she never did practice law, she kept the house filled with books. My grandmother, Marion Dunham Bowman, was a graduate of Albany Law School. I was raised by my grandparents, who had a little general store. It is a place I love, close to the forests and the mountains. I grew up in the small town of Greenfield Center, New York, which is in the foothills of the Adirondacks not far from the city of Saratoga Springs.
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