One day last summer, I found myself standing on a wobbly stool in a tiny, sweltering cottage in a part of midtown Phoenix that had long been the butt of local jokes. I was there to help paint the kitchen of an old, lath-and-plaster bungalow that had been donated to the Sunnyslope Historical Society, and which the organization was planning to restore so that people could come look at how middle-class people lived in the... More >>>