If you resided in Riverside, Rhode Island, you were a Clamdigger. You did not have to dig them or even eat one to be a recipient of that title, you only had to live there. Riverside was bordered on the west by miles of waterways. This geographic happenstance was the ideal setting for the habitation of those tender, succulent sea creatures called Little Neck Clams , hence the name Clamdiggers . I lived in a three-bedroom, yellow, arts and crafts style bungalow with my father, mother, and Mary and Alicia. Mary, born 18 months before me, and Alicia nine years my junior. Riverside, Rhode Island, was my home until I left to be married. Mary always said if you looked up Riverside in the dictionary the definition would Boring. I didn't agree. I loved where we lived and was convinced we had as much adventure, intrigue, suspense, and just plain fun as any place on the planet. They were years of innocence. The community was my world. For me, growing up in the nineteen forties and fifties were days that were simple and secure and brimming with interesting and entertaining people for me to observe. These stories are about my childhood. I was a daydreamer and watched, with curiosity and wonder, as exciting, endless, tales of daily life unfolded.
Wonderful stories about growing up in Rhode Island in the 1940s and '50s. Is my five-star rating based, to a certain extent, on the respect I have for an 82-year-old first-time author who worked over 15 years to bring this book to its conclusion? Yes, indeed. Is my five-star rating based, to a certain extent, on the fact that Anita Conron was a participant for many years in the writing workshops I offer, so I understand the effort that went into the project? Of course. Is my five-star rating, to a certain extent, based on the affection I have developed for Anita's characters, whom I have come to know as this book took shape? Certainly. Congratulations, Anita. Well done.