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From the November 2013 magazine.

December 2013: Still got my marbles

It was just a game until booze entered the picture

We played marbles outside as soon as the snow began to melt and we could see the slushy ground. It was still so cold we wore mittens, though we knew they would affect our aim. More often than not, our fingers would be frostbitten by the time we got back in the house, where we would jump in pain in front of the fire until they thawed out.

Living in a small town in northern Michigan in the early ’60s, where really nothing but the bare necessities could be bought, I don’t remember where Jimmie and I got those beautiful spheres. We both loved marbles. At 8 years old there was...

-- Judy B.

Concord, Calif., California