Lynn's Comments: Our tent was pitched just a few feet from the basement door, but still, we cringed if we heard anything suspicious or creepy or wild. I remember Mr. Arbuckle, our neighbor, coming home with a snootfull, creeping along his garden path, bumping into fences, trying not to alert his wife - who could yell like a banshee. We'd crawl far enough out of the door flap to watch him, and seeing us, he'd wave - knowing we could keep a secret. We liked him and figured he was doing stuff he had to do.