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Each evening from December to December
Before you drift to sleep upon your cot,
Think back on all the tales that you remember
Ask ev'ry person if he's heard the story;
And tell it strong and clear if he has not:
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Where once it never rained till after sundown;
By eight a.m. the morning fog had flown . . .
Don't let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment that was known
As Camelot . . .
For a handful of young families, settling into their newly-built homes in the late 1950's, little did they know how much the "neighborhood" would become a sweet remembrance through the years. This website is a tribute to that special little cul-de-sac that provided so many memories that still ring clear in the hearts of those who experienced it. For our dear neighbors, discovering this electronic diary, please submit the "tales that you remember" here. For visitors, who live in a world with cynics and naysayers, doubting the ideals of "Leave it to Beaver" and "The Andy Griffith Show," take confidence from our past . . . believe us . . . once there was a spot . . .