My friend, the most powerful attorney in the state,
who was my other neighbor across the street,
was friends with the Governor. The Governor
arranged for West Point Choir Tour and my neighbor
arranged for four of the Cadets to stay at our home.
Two of them stayed in our Guest room. We had
five bedrooms. On the wall in the Guest Room
that our neighbor’s son had seen when he had once
stayed over was a polaroid picture of me in my sister’s doll dress,
when I was five and pissed. The Cadets were not happy.
I had been asking my parents if I could attend a more rigorous
education in Junior High. We ended up all talking together.
I went down to Tempe for awhile and stayed with a
family friend and his wife a former School Superintendent. He was a proponant of Open Classrooms in the Seventies. My parents decided that experiencing other schools and cities around the country was more important
than intense education and I agreed with them.
I am left now with only my siblings now who were in
College or close at the time. We don’t remember the
past the same way. I believe my memories. Mine was built on lies.
