Favorite Books & Enchanted Attics

Favorite Childhood Books and Enchanted Attics

By Gil Moegerle

September 26, 2017

Why, when we were children, were attics magical? Why did they trigger our imaginations the moment we stepped through those creaking doors or, better yet, as we pulled down that hidden ceiling door, climbed that folding ladder and our eyes pop up above those rafters? Surely, we thought, mysterious and glorious adventures awaited. We were certain inside that dusty trunk over there were amazing artifacts from olden days. And what about this old wardrobe mom and dad hauled up here when they got a new one? Surely treasures grander than any pirate’s resided behind those old doors.

The stairs leading to my enchanted attic…

Granddad Moegerle, Pop Pop we called him, had an attic. We walked up wooden stairs in the living room to reach it. To the left was a partially finished guest bedroom where we slept during sleepovers. Straight ahead was a bath. Then there was that door to the right that called to me. Behind it, a stand-up, unfinished storage attic. I remember asking once if I could sleep in there instead of the guest bedroom. Why? Mystery. Adventure.

That’s why, many years later, I partially finished the attic of my condo, then built a model railroad layout the entire length of the place. Because I knew that saying to my grandchildren, “Want to go up in the attic?” is about as magical as a grandpa gets…

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