Mercer Island is a community filled with pocket neighborhoods, and I’m fortunate to live in one. Tucked among a cloister of houses on the west side of the island, I’m surrounded by some extraordinary families who have made this place their home for nearly half a century. We moved here almost three years ago and were immediately taken by the fact that people who live here just don’t leave. Our 1937 house had only two owners before us, both who raised their families and stayed for forty years. We should be lucky enough to do the same.
As I’ve grown to know and love our neighbors, the subject of Island Books comes up at almost every gathering (and not just because I work here). At book clubs, Christmas parties, Fourth of July fireworks, baby showers, and just a glass of wine for no reason on a sunny day, the stories come pouring out. I’ve heard about families who paddled over from Seattle on a canoe before the I-90 bridge existed, bonfires and tree-climbing, a cabin built during a summer of pot smoking, teenage boys spying on the pretty neighbor girl in the shower, territorial feuds, landslides, weddings on the lawn, dead bodies, and even naked dinner parties. And through all those threads: Island Books, Island Books, Island Books....Read More
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