THAT (that) wrote,
THAT
that

My Difficult Youth


I was rocking my 13-day old baby, David, when the news came on. (That President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas.) I had moved to Austin the year before from Dallas, my home town, to begin life as a future preacher's wife. (Didn't take to it very well.) I used to haunt downtown Dallas as I waited for a bus to transport me to SMU. Before that, I traveled downtown every week by bus for meetings with my Dr. Pepper-sponsored Junior Achievement Company. I've not been liking Dallas so much after that sad day. Irrational, though it may be. Until my father died there in 1994 I visited Dallas to see him. He lived out on former Hockaday School apartments and cautioned against walking in the neighborhood. Since then, I pretty much drive through rival Ft Worth when heading north to Fulton on I-35. Once, in Dallas, I ran into Tony Bennett in the elevator of the public library which was then next door to the Hilton Hotel. I still love libraries.
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