On New Year’s Day I was crawling into the closet under my mother’s staircase to reorganize her Christmas decorations when she pointed out a box that held my father’s small collection of vinyl record albums.

“If you want to go through those old records, now’s the time,” Mom suggested.

Taped shut and shoved up under the lowest two steps was this family time capsule marked “Records.” For nearly two decades, we had been stepping over the likes of Johnny Cash, Glen Campbell, Ray Price, Willie Nelson and “Ain’t it funny how time slips away?”

For the complete article, please pick up a copy of The Daily Reflector or purchase today’s electronic edition at http://www.reflector.com/circ-store. Current home delivery and electronic edition subscribers may log in to access this article at no charge. To become a subscriber, please click here or contact Customer Service at (252) 329-9505.