In 1966, my family lived in a little house on Denver Avenue in Northeast Kansas City near where my parents grew up. I don't recall the house number, but I've seen it a few times over the years, and can find the approximate area. Somewhere south of Winner Rd, I think, but my grandparents lived farther northeast, near St. John Avenue.
Stories I'm told about that house include the time a carton of Coke bottles was left on the back porch and the tops blew off in the summer heat. I have the barest recollection of that porch and my rocking horse, but that's for tomorrow, if I can find the photo. It was a different world back then; no one who lives there now would recognize much of it.
The number one song on the radio when I turned a year old was "When A Man Loves a Woman" by Percy Sledge.
It was knocked down the following week by "Paint it Black," which shows how schizophrenic things were at the time.
And there was a very silly movie playing in the theaters called The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming. If you've seen it, well. Alan Arkin is adorable. Here's the trailer: