Louisville Magazine

MAR 2017

Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.

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derbydinner.com 10 LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 3.17 INTER-OFFICE MEMO We lived in Denver in my early years. I remember potty training on our port-a- potty in the mountains, pants around my ankles, wearing a tiny parka and miniature climbing boots with red laces. Literally freezing my butt off. Suki Anderson Art director It's either a terrifying orangutan trying to play hide-and-seek with me at the zoo, or it's the birthday (my third or fourth) when my mom made me let my little cousin blow out my candles. I think about the second one a lot. Michelle Eigenheer Contributing writer I remember playing at a friend's house down the street when I was three and be- ing abruptly summoned home. Once there, I witnessed my mom crying nonstop while watching TV. While running errands later that afternoon, we sat in the car listening to the radio before going into a store. My mom was crying again. I didn't understand why at the time. It was Nov. 22, 1963, the day JFK was assassinated. Stacey Hallahan Advertising director I was lying on the floor in my grandpar- ents' living room, my temple flat on the cool laminate. I kept hammering my other temple with the bottom of my fist. I'm pretty sure my grandmother asked me why I was doing that. I told her it felt good. Dylon Jones Senior editor Being attacked by a turkey at my grandpar- ents' farm. I was playing outside, minding my own business, when out of nowhere this giant turkey charged me, flew up and knocked me over. I still hate turkeys. Maybe that's why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Alexandra Winters Editorial assistant I am on a glass-bottom boat somewhere near Catalina Island off the coast of Califor- nia. For some reason, the image in my head is yellowish-green — a mixture of the pea- soup-green water below and the brown- ish-green fish swimming under my feet. I'm on a lap — can't remember if it's my mom's or dad's. An old man sitting next to us, may- be holding a cane, tries to talk to me, and I retreat into the cavity of my mom's or dad's body because I am too shy to be polite and respond to whatever he's saying. Anne Marshall Senior writer The blizzard of 1994 dumped almost two feet of snow on the city. Holding my older brother's hand, I stumbled through the It's the first thing we ask every 21 Questions subject: What's your earliest childhood memory?

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