Condo collapse a bar stool story.

[Ranjr]

We had wrought iron benches on the front porch of the farm house where I grew up.  They were painted white.  We never sat on them.  The front porch faced a pasture with one lone persimmon tree off by the highway.  

We did sit on one of them once that I know of.  Mom took a picture of us kids, me between the girls, the rose between two thorns as dad put it.  We were dressed for Easter Sunday.  I don't remember that day.  I remember the persimmon tree and how far away it seemed.