Makings of a Drifter

Idaho, a Visual Walk

Story and Photos by ckevinswan

Nampa was a great place to grow up, a very simple, easygoing town.

Our city hall was right in the center of town, the city offices and court were upstairs, the police station and jail were down. The three-story, squared building was almost a playground for me—my dad was often in jail and my mom would take my brothers and me to visit. The jail cell windows opened on the shady side of the buildings and a person could stand, or in my case sit, on the sidewalk and talk to the prisoners. I don’t remember talking with Chet (my dad) very often, but the conversations I do remember most were had through the jailhouse windows.

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