Recently someone asked me if I had always taken pictures and written notes throughout my life, or if this was simply started in adulthood. For many years, during my childhood especially, I experienced so many unbelievable and amazing things, the vast majority of which were not documented or recorded in any way.  The details were simply lost, only to exist in my mind as inconsequential bits and pieces of memories that, as the years go by, fade away slowly their nostalgic value ever increasing, though never to return again. My father left behind a large cardboard box in the attic when he passed away.  The box was unmarked, though completely…