The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 30

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July 21, 2026- My little girl cried for nearly a half hour, this afternoon, before finally letting go and falling asleep on my shoulder. She sometimes is so tired that, like many a toddler, she fights sleep, while remaining miserable. She has a little way to go, before being a toddler, but her mindset is already there.

On either side of the meltdown, Hana was happy-with her lunch, with our little walk, with playtime and with the story I read. We went outside while it was still relatively mild (87 F). The temperature eventually hit 107. We didn’t have to face any of that.

This caps six months of life outside the womb. In that time span, Hana has mastered crawling with her body elevated, sitting up independently, eating pureed solid food, sipping water from a cup with a straw, feeding herself with a soft spoon and calling for her mother and father by title.

HANA’S NOTE- I was so tired this afternoon, I just cried and cried. Papa was patient and I slept in his arms for a long time. i heard him say it was one and a half hours-whatever those are.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1973 This was the second year at North Shore Community College. I had to leave the Beverly house, in May, because the owner sold the house and we all dispersed. After looking around at different options, I went back to my parents’ house. Work was at United Parcel Service, sorting packages by destination, in the wee hours of the weekdays. I also worked security at Crane Beach, in Ipswich, MA during the summer and in the stockroom at our local Sears, Roebuck, during the fall. This was a year for taking in the Winter Carnival in Quebec City, running a college tour to Montreal and taking a road trip to Prince Edward Island, in early June.

I ended the year by preparing to transfer to the University of Massachusetts-Amherst. I did credibly at NSCC, earning an Associate Degree in General Studies.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 29

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July 20, 2026- I used an unconventional means of opening a container, this evening. Hana looked astounded, and let me know that she didn’t think it was a good idea. I told her that, although it worked this time, I wouldn’t do that again. She gave a wan smile. If you have ever been scolded, in infant-speak, you know what I mean.

She is speaking her mind, a lot more these days, and I find it fairly easy to decipher what she is saying. There are times when she will speak, from the back of her throat, in intelligible English words- “I want that”; “I don’t want it.”; “I love you”. As the teeth pop out, she will produce more words, certainly.

She also has her own set of expectations for our daily routine. She will not go for a nap, until she has had her walk in the stroller and taken her medication. She also prefers to take any afternoon nap with me, in the recliner. Her lunch meal has the “bite” order of vegetable, starch, meat, sip from the milk bottle, and repeat. This works just fine and she is a plate cleaner.

HANA’S NOTE- I told Papa, “That is not a good thing to do”, when I saw him opening a salad box, without using scissors. I have to watch him every minute that Daddy isn’t home!

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1972 I was discharged from the Army on January 2, with the condition I attend college. I resumed my studies at North Shore Community College, in Beverly, MA. I lived at home the first semester. I worked at a warehouse called Central Sales, not far from the college, three evenings and Saturday mornings. As before, young women floated in and out of my life. I dated a sweet girl who was four years my junior, for a few months. She was more mature than I was, and it fell apart after about three months.

Summer brought a three-week jaunt across Canada, from Montreal to Edmonton and Calgary, then down through Montana, Idaho, Utah and across Colorado, the Midwest, West Virginia, Maryland and back up through Pennsylvania and back to Massachusetts. I met nice people along the way, and learned the limits of sleeping outside, in some of the national parks of Canada. Stops to visit people along the way ranged from turbulent (a pen pal in Colorado) to gratifying (my Viet Nam buddy , Bill, and his family, in Baltimore). I also first heard of the Baha’i Faith, outside Philadelphia. I was still comfortable as a Catholic, so didn’t investigate any further, but the name kept popping up, over the next several years.

Fall semester found me living with an eclectic group of people in Beverly. I stayed there with Al, Sandy and their housemates, into the following Spring. It was a pleasant arrangement and I learned the value of platonic friendships with women, other than my sister and cousins. Emotional maturity was coming along, slowly but surely.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 28

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July 19,2026- “I want this!”- So said my granddaughter, as she sat on my lap, while I was reading my Baha’i prayer book, this morning. I let her touch the cover and the pages, but not pull on them. She understood, after I explained the reason, a second time. It is nice that she wants to hold such a comforting book.

We went to Costco, as a family, this afternoon. Hana is not yet curious about stuff. She basically looks at what people are doing-especially other children teasing their parents. She had no reaction today, at a little boy trying to keep things away from his mother. On other occasions, she has babbled at another child, in a scolding tone. Today, she was in a more pensive mood.

In the evening, we had Hana in a swim vest, and she kicked her legs several times, in forward motion, in a half full bathtub. With a full protective suit and three of us hovering, she was perfectly safe and felt more relaxed.

HANA’S NOTE- I like to handle things-and put my mouth on them. My grown-ups won’t let me “eat” some things. I try to do that anyway. Books taste yucky!

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1971 My first experience with the Pacific Northwest=11 different forms of weather, in 24 hours, at Fort Lewis, WA. My first experience with Japan- Yokota Air Force Base was a miserable place, with bad weather and miserable American civilians, who disdained us grunts. My experiences with VietNam- Mostly kind, gentle locals worked on the bases at Long Binh and at Cholon. I was seen as a “newbie”, at Long Binh, especially by those who had come in from combat units, in the back country. One of them changed his tune, after I defended him from the unit’s self-styled alpha male, while I was assistant Charge of Quarters, overnight. I managed the Accountable Mail cage,both at Long Bin and at Cholon. Long Binh was touch and go. I was there from March until July.

When said alpha male threatened me, for having embarrassed him before the unit, I was transferred to Cholon, a small unit in Saigon’s Chinatown. There was no word on what happened to him. Sergeant First Class Hobson, the operations sergeant, just thought I’d be better off at Cholon. I was, as it happened. I had good friends there-Bill, Arnie, Richie, Roger. At Long Binh, I had been mostly an outsider.

I spent four days in Sydney, on a Rest & Rehabilitation leave, in September and spent much of that time with two sisters, who my buddy Bill had met, on his R&R, earlier. I was rather a rube, during those days, but I did enjoy my time with them and a visit to Tauranga Park. I also visited Vung Tau, a beach town, southeast of Saigon. We were told that the Viet Cong also used Vung Tau as a resort, but I basically stayed with a small group of other soldiers and met no trouble that day. Once, while I was still at Long Binh, my cousin Johnny came by, as he was stationed in the Mekong Delta and had an errand to run on the base. That was one of the best days in a rather miserable place.

In November, right after the guys threw a surprise party for my 21st birthday, I was given the chance to apply for early release, to return to college. I put in for it, got approval and my time in VietNam came to an end, with the new year.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 27

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July 18. 2026- Hana greeted the ladies who came to visit us, this afternoon. This was Yunhee’s first real house party, and five of her former co-workers came. Hana likes a small, intimate gathering, but doesn’t like too much noise, or what seems to her like a crowd. I helped her get comfortable with the idea of so many people sitting around the dining table. She understood, when I told her that all the ladies were nice and that they were there to see her, as well as her mother.

It meant a lot to her Mom, and to us men, that this afternoon went well. We enjoyed Korean-style fried chicken, Malaysian empanadas,and Filipino purple yam cake. The conversation centered on dealing with the heaviness in the logistics industry, but floated to topics of fashion, child-rearing and the anomalies that pop up in moving a household, in which two of the ladies-mother and daughter-are now engaged. A comparison between living in Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex and Greater Atlanta entered into discussion. We also talked of travel in east Asia-Singapore, Korea and the Philippines. It was a lovely afternoon.

When the ladies got ready to leave, Hana spoke loudly, seeming to say “Thank you for coming.” She also smilingly took part in the ladies’ group photo. This evening, it was hard for her to wind down, but after I told her that tomorrow will be another happy day, if she gets a good rest, her father put her in the crib and she rolled over to go to sleep.

HANA’S NOTE- I had fun in the playpen with the first two ladies that came and went to take a nap, after a while. When I woke up, there were three more ladies here. That confused me and at first I was upset. Mommy and Papa got me to understand what had happened. It was fun after that.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1970 This year was spent keeping the mail delivery system at the Tri-Service Barracks at Fort Myer well-functioning. I was able to move into that barracks, myself, after five months. There were many weekends spent in Washington, primarily in Georgetown. I also walked-a lot, around the city, at one point going all the way to Rockville, MD and on another occasion, found myself in Coral Hills, a northeastern suburb. My co-worker, Charlie, was from southeast DC, and commuted each day. He was flabbergasted that I had walked all that way, but it is what I’m used to doing.

I took part in a couple of anti-war demonstrations, and associated with a progressive group that had set up a free university, they called “New University”. I sat in on a few of their lectures. I walked away from the demonstrations, though, after some of the participants started attacking DC police officers. I later learned that there were agents provocateurs among the crowd. My association stopped altogether, after I was directed by my Commanding Officer to join a detail that stockpiled pro-war pamphlets in a DC Public Schools warehouse. Somehow, I was photographed in fatigues at that exercise, and the photos were circulated among identified radical groups,

I met different public figures, during the year: Vice President Spiro Agnew and his wife, on a Georgetown street, with Agnew telling me he was “for the war and am anti-you”; Senator J. Strom Thurmond, who was jogging near the Capitol, and encouraged me to always stay active; Chicago 8 defendant Rennie Davis, who was nervous about being re-arrested and Abbie Hoffman, at a large anti-war event. Hoffman said, “Watch this, kid”, then turned to a TV set that featured Richard Nixon making a speech. He kicked the TV off the stage, into an empty grassy area. I was not impressed, and left right afterward.

I went back and forth from DC to Massachusetts, several times during the year. I met a few young ladies, and basically we passed through each other’s consciousness like ships in the night. In the middle of 1970, one of my neighbourhood friends from Saugus was gravely wounded in VietNam. He survived and is still alive. That, however, along with my increasing annoyance with both sides in the war debate, made me decide to go to Viet Nam and see for myself, what was going on. I asked HQ Company, U.S. Army First Sergeant Harper for help in getting re-assigned, infuriated my pacifist friends-and gave up the easy life at Fort Myer, early in 1971.

It was time for innocence to end.

Korean Onion Chicken

Filipino Purple Yam cake

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 26

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July 17,2026- Hana and I were asleep in the recliner, so deeply that I didn’t notice Aram going in and out to get the mail. My granddaughter has the same calming effect on me that I have on her.

We had a busy “half day”, in that her parents came home from work early, to take her to a medical appointment. We thus managed our walk, “wrestling” (her crawling on me and my lifting her up in the air, in vestibular motion) and lunch time into a shorter frame. There was also story time, centered on “Sleeping Beauty”. Maleficent is portrayed in this brief version only as the “Old Fairy”. She ends up getting turned into a frog. Hana thought that was funny.

She is always overjoyed when one of us comes back to the house, after having been away for a brief errand. Having the family all together is a big deal to my granddaughter. She is delighted to just sit in the high chair at each meal, even at breakfast, which for her is a liquid feeding, still. She has complete meals at lunch and dinner.

HANA’S NOTE- I went to have my blood checked-AGAIN. This time, the nurse only stuck me once with the needle. So, that was not as bad.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1969 This was a year of firsts: My first time on an airplane; my first trip outside New England; my first extended time away from family; my first time really hallenging myself.

I left Star Market in January and went to work at General Electric’s Riverworks Plant, in Lynn, MA. My fahter, and several relatives and neighbours worked there, as well. Dad got me in. I worked in the rotometer calibration section. The senior technician told me my work was substandard, but he never bothered complaining to the higher=ups. Nor did he offer specific criticism that might have helped me improve.

It was a placeholder job, anyway, as I had asked the Army Reserve Unit to let me enlist in the Regular Army. My plan was to enlist for 3 years, then apply for an early release, so as to return to college. My enlistment date was set for June 16, and the recruiter determined I’d be best suited for the Army Postal Corps. I left G.E. on May 1, and focused somewhat on physical training.

Basic Training was at Fort Jackson, SC. I started off as a mewling klutz, but slowly and surely got with the program. I scraped by in marksmanship, missed Combat Fire-but never was made to re-take it, though I asked to do so, and excelled in the Physical Training Test. I did fairly well in the G-3 (General Knowledge) Exam, which was oral. On weekends, we had free time, and I went with a couple of guys who were from Columbia, to their favourite hangouts. I was the sole White guy with four African-Americans, but none of the Whites we encountered gave us any trouble over it.

Woodstock happened while I was doing things like learning how to properly handle grenades and re-sight my M-16. We were brought into a room and allowed to watch the launch of the first Apollo rocket to the Moon. Training was canceled that day. I made enough of an improvement that the cadre sent me on a 3-day pass to Myrtle Beach, on Labor Day weekeend.. I saw that there was little difference between it and the beach towns of New England, though the water was warmer. I stayed in a two-bed shack for $1 a night, and had the place to myself.

Fort Ben Harrison and the postal training were footnotes. I didn’t really bond with anyone in the unit, but went into Indianapolis by myself a few times on weekends. I never did get to the racetrack, though. Many of the guys went to VietNam, after AIT. I was sent to Fort Myer, Va. I was assigned to straighten out a mail operation, as my predecessor had ended up in Fort Leavenworth, for various postal crimes. That made a distinct impression on me. I got the job done quickly, to the satisfaction of the Inspector General. That November, a high school friend was killed in Viet Nam, and I began to re-assess what my responsibilities were. I fasted that Thanksgiving, and decided to give Fort Myer a year, after which I would re-assess my situation. Seeing Washington, D.C. on weekends was great fun, though, and I began to bond with civilians in the Georgetown neighbourhood, whose views on life were similar to my own.

Thus did the ’60s come to an end.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 25

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July 16, 2026- Hana is becoming increasingly concerned with cleanliness. She wipes her play pen with a clean cloth, She hates having a soiled diaper and fusses until she is perfectly clean again. (This may be a good time to lobby for a toddler potty, but we’ll take that cause up very soon.) She wipes her own face after a meal.

We went out around 9:30, this morning. The road crews were already hard at work, so we went along the north sidewalk, then across to Hoblitzelle Park and back through the quieter areas of Greenfield Avenue, where work had been finished. The park was fairly active, but the return route was nearly deserted. Hana occupied herself with singing and with feeling the texture of the bug net. She drew lots of smiles and compliments from people passing by us.

I have heard from friends elsewhere, who are concerned that the storm now ravaging central Texas might be headed our way. We had three intense showers today, but our cul-de-sac is well away from any flowing water, and the kids reported there was no flooding on the roads to Coppell and Euless, where they work. I ache for the people in San Antonio and points west and south, who are again getting the brunt of the flooding.

HANA’S NOTE- I like to take baths, so I am glad that I can sit up on my own now. It makes bath night much more fun.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1968 This was my first big transition, since 1956. I graduated high school, not wanting to make a big deal of it, but also wondering about what was next. Graduation summer found me mostly working at Star Market, basically treading water. I would continue there until the end of my semester at the University of Massachusetts-Boston, to which I commuted each day, in the Fall of that year.

I made friends in Boston, and started off on a good foot, academically. A month in, though, I was more interested in parties and protests than in studying. That lack of focus cost me a girl I might have truly loved. She was serious about her education. I wasn’t really serious about much of anything.

So, December, 1968 found me thinking about what, exactly, I was going to do to discipline myself. It was too late for Katie, but I was going to have a redeemed life, somehow. I enlisted in the Army Reserves- a six-year commitment. I also agreed to work at the General Electric plant where my father worked.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 24

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July 15, 2026- Hana is taking on small responsibilities, with regard to getting dressed and feeding. She puts her sleeves through the body bib at lunchtime and can feed herself if someone puts food on the spoon and hands it to her. She chooses which of two outfits she wants to wear for the day and helps put the onesie or dress over her head. She also sits up straight in the plastic bath tub and is better about letting her mother wash her hair. She already likes to “wipe” the play mat, using a small bamboo cloth.

She is learning a lot by watching the three of us do different tasks. We describe what we are doing, step by step, and she listens with rapt attention. With repetition, much of this will register, as the months roll on. As I mentioned above, she has pretty much mastered sitting up. If she is tired, it helps her to have someone or something to hold onto, but otherwise, my granddaughter is on track, developmentally.

Today, we sat by the window and watched the cement truck pour concrete into the forms for the new sidewalk and landing. After a few minutes, she became more interested in feeling the curtain, but went back to watching the cement pouring after that. We stayed in today, because of the work being done, especially as there was really no room for a stroller anywhere in our immediate front walk.

HANA’S NOTE- I took my medicine tablet by myself, when Papa gave it to me, and I made it dissolve in my mouth. After another little while, I put my arms in the big bib. I like to be helpful.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1967 (I am writing this part, so that Hana may read these reflections, when she gets old enough, and will understand things that happened to her Grandfather.) Junior year saw me break a few rules and set myself on a path with some bad choices. I never got in trouble with the Law, fortunately, but I know my use of alcohol hurt my parents’ hearts and it did me no favours, in the long run. I went to work at Star Market, shortly after I turned 16. As it was three miles from my home, I got rides for the first few months. Then, thanks to the long-suffering, but fastidious, Coach Wall, I earned my Driver’s License. I learned to scan the road on both sides of me, very quickly, and managed to not have an accident, for nearly 47 years-and then, only because someone tampered with the brakes of my car. As for my work at Star, I was diligent, but also maddeningly slow in going about my work. It would have helped, had I listened to my supervisors, but the 16-year-old Gary was not so ready to do that.

The first part of my Senior year saw a budding interest in writing gain support from our English teacher, Mrs. Vande. That course was probably one of the most rewarding classes I’ve had. It’s largely why I am here now. Mr. Quinlan took us through Algebra II. I had two history classes: Latin American History, very rewarding and Asian History, which was fascinating, but for the incompetence of the teacher, proved annoying. Business Law, taught by our then-State Representative, was one of the most useful classes I’ve ever had. Coach Wall and Mr. Bly are two of the reasons I’ve kept out of trouble. Bob Powers, at Star Market, would have been a third, had I listened to the poor man.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 23

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July 14, 2026– Lunch is peaceful, when a bit of tactile feeding is involved. The food that ends up in Hana’s hands, as opposed to the spoon with which I feed her most of it, still ends up in her mouth-either by her own actions or by my scooping it from the body bib, high chair tray or food catcher at the base of the chair. What little finds its way to an unsanitary area, like the foot rest of the high chair-or the floor, is of course, discarded. She ate everything on her plate today.

How lunch proceeds also depends on the quality of her mid-morning nap. Even though that was brief today, she was energetic and happy, when she woke up. So, she probably slept pretty deeply. We also went out earlier than normal, so she had the extra pleasure of a cooler morning walk.

Hana is calling us “Papa”, “Daddy” and “Mama” more these days. She even used her own name and pointed to herself, for the first time, this afternoon. Her vocalizations, in general, have vastly increased, this week. She can also be quite loud.

HANA’S NOTE- I am happy with my name-and happy with the meals that Mama leaves for me. They feel nice and taste good.

YEAR IN REMEMBTANCE0 1966 Sophomore year went well, in every subject except Algebra I. Coach Stead tried his best, but I till didn’t get the hang of it. I managed to finally get a B in the course, in Mr. Quinlan’s summer course.

Most of our family summer vacations entailed a few days somewhere in the White Mountains of New Hampshire and 2-3 days at Johns Pond, in Mashpee, on Cape Cod. This year, after Mashpee, we took a day trip from nearby Woods Hole to Martha’s Vineyard. I like walking around Vineyard Haven, but more enjoyed a visit to a Wampanoag community, on the west of the island.

Junior Year, in the fall, brought Geometry, Chemistry and U.S. History, along with a dismal year of French- mostly because it entailed memorizing long lists of conjugated verbs-not my jam, then or now. One of my best friends was a freshman girl, who I had met at the beach over the summer. She was dating a sophomore boy, who also became a good friend. He and I sat in the back of Geometry Class and enjoyed one another’s snarky humour. We also managed to get through the class with Cs.

I hung out with a variety of kids this year. I had a ways to go with picking up on social cues, Joan and Charlie, to whom I alluded earlier, helped a lot, as did several of the guys in my neighbourhood- even though their name for the group was rather lame: “The Ave. Boys”. (We lived on or near Adams Avenue.) I walked over to Howard Johnson’s Restaurant, where one of the kids on my street worked. A number of teens from Saugus and nearby Melrose gathered there, mostly during the summer nights. We seldom drew the attention of the police-but Officer Gus Belmonte would chat us up and made it clear he expected no trouble from anyone. Gus was one of the better cops.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 22

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July 13, 2026- When Aram is interrupted, while saying something he deems important, he will raise his voice and slow his cadence. He makes sure than he finishes what he has to say. Hana showed the same assertiveness, this morning. When she was talking, after having had a mildly hard adjustment to a new form of medication, I began to re-assure her that all was well. She wasn’t finished, and raised her voice to complete her vocal thought.

I’m proud of her for stepping up so early in life. Her sounds have a cadence to them that indicate clear thought, and they are interspersed with English and Korean words that fit the context of the situation. She was quite clearly processing her feelings about her experience.

As the day wore on, she was very much irritated with her slowly emerging top incisors. I can see them poking through the inside of her gums. There is no wondrous magic that helps a child deal with teething- from the first incisors to the misnamed “Wisdom Teeth”, of early adolescence. Only love and patience see us all through.

I left this evening, to help co-ordinate a Baha’i Spiritual Feast. When I got back, Aram and Yunhee said Hana had gone to sleep with only a minimum of fuss.She must have run out of steam. During the day, she is quite loud, when speaking, seemingly about a variety of subjects. I look forward to her “discourses” on whatever comes into her mind.

HANA’S NOTE- I have seen my Daddy insist on being able to finish his sentences. I am going to do the same. I think a lot about things and my thoughts can be put into words-even if grown-ups think I’m just babbling.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1965 This was the year I really started to build up my LP collection. I had a cheap record player, that I kept for ten years. I even brought the machine to college-where it was jokingly known to everyone in my dorm as “The Set”. I didn’t care; the old device fit my needs. It played all my LPs., from The Beatles and Stones to Andy Williams and Neil Diamond. It, along with my transistor radio. was my ticket to another world.

I got through every class in my Freshman year, except Algebra I. It would take me two more tries to pass the subject- my Sophomore regular year and Summer School, thereafter. Mr, John Quinlan finally made the light shine-and I moved up the math ladder.

My Sophomore Year’s teachers were a significant improvement over the Grade 9 crew. Biology, English Grammar and World History all were crystal clear. I still write under Miss Kochakian’s rules of punctuation and style. French, under Mme. Jeanne Gorton, was all the more so. The damage done by her predecessor was largely cleared up, with Madame Gorton’s Parisian flair and discipline. Algebra I remained a cipher, until Mr. Quinlan tied everything together, the following summer.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 6, Day 21

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July 12, 2026- I heard Hana crying, this evening, so I went down to see what was going on. She was in the crib and wanted to get out-but it was bedtime. Her Daddy was right there, calmly waiting her out. She was excited that I had come in the room, but Papa was not rescuing her from her parents’ rules.

I went for a walk, instead, after saying “Goodnight” to her. Outside, the air was clean and cool. There was a small “rainbar” off to the east, as I walked along Red River Road, through a small section of Hoblitzelle Park, as far as the elementary school where Hana would study, if we stay here that long. (We’re doing fine here, but the kids are always looking for better opportunities-as well they should.)

While Aram was still at Drill, this afternoon, the three of us went to downtown Plano, with Yunhee and I enjoying iced maple lattes and a Cruffin, whilst Hana chilled in her stroller, just taking in the sights and sounds of Lemma Coffee House. After that, we walked over to Bibliobar, the small eclectic bookshop, where I gleaned, and purchased, a story about a little girl looking for home. It will be nice to read to Hana, as she grows.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa is usually indulgent, so I tried to get him to take me out of my crib-but, nothing doing. He backs my Mommy and Daddy up-darn!

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1964 I was in full puberty in Grade 8-actually, I had been for the previous two years. I was also gawky and had buck teeth, so not really boyfriend material. I made my share of friends though, once over the nervous tics that only put a wedge between me and the rest of the class. Grade 8 came to an end, in a peaceful way. The arsonist was caught, by good old Mr. Casey, after he tried to set fire to Veterans Memorial School, where we had transferred after the East Wing Fire and where Bill had transferred to work as custodian. The firebug was a classmate of ours, mentally ill and a loner. He got some of the help he needed, after that run of destruction.

My youngest brother, Brian, came along right after I “graduated” Grade 8. Being thirteen and a bit emotionally awkward, yet, I wasn’t the greatest big brother in the world-still focused on teasing David and on my own concerns. Brian and I grew to love one another, and in truth, we were the “Challenge Bookends’ for our parents. Me, by a series of bad choices’ and he, through no fault of his own. His life of physical and mental challenges was anchored by his loving nature, though, and he gave of himself as much as he could.

Grade 9, back on a normal high school schedule, after the reconstruction of the East Wing, was chaotic in other ways. The number of competent teachers we had this year: Two- the English instructor, the venerable Mrs. Adlington and the P.E. teacher, the unconventional, but very effective, Mr. McNeil. The other four need not be mentioned by name. Three were nice enough people-but incompetent. The fourth was just a nasty individual. I got along better with most kids this year.