My worst nightmare had just materialized–walking naked onstage in front of a live audience and having to perform some obscure skill–say ventriloquism–in order to save my life.
My first-grade teacher, Mrs. Hume, wore horn-rimmed glasses and dark dresses. I remember little else about her, except that she placed me in the bluebird reading group and seemed very old. The year was 1960, an election year. Even though I was only six years old, I was aware that two men, Kennedy and Nixon,…… Continue reading How I Learned