Through a lens of time I marvel at how we believed our firsts were events only we had experienced. Our first kiss, our first scotch, our first dance, each experience was a solo discovery, as if we learned what others didn’t. In my case my first cigarette, a Parliament, was offered to me by the girl next door. She was a senior in the all-girl Academy of the Holy Angels in Fort Lee, NJ, and I was a newbie freshman in the same academy merely a month into autumn of the late fifties.

In January of 1953 the Andrea Doria made its maiden voyage to New York harbor from Italy. The ship was a state of the art transatlantic carrier. it touted its sea worthiness based on stabilizers, claiming they would prevent the ship from sinking and also provide a smooth sail on a frequent angry Atlantic Ocean. June of that year I sailed to Naples on that ship. I was nine and my brother was eleven.

Throughout the 1950’s Fort Lee, NJ, was experiencing a building boom, especially in the section called the Palisades. The municipality had gone nearly bankrupt and properties were selling at affordable prices.

Grace was amazing. Most mornings she was on the high school track walking her four miles. She engaged all the early walkers, knew some by name and others perhaps only by face.

It was July 21, 1969, when we heard from the 19 inch TV screen: “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.

At seventeen I got my driver’s license and jumped at the chance to take Grandma for her Christmas visit to my grandfather’s grave. My older brother was more than willing to give up the drive, and I should have suspected why, but I didn’t.