In 1969 I was in seventh grade. One fall afternoon, I took an ill-advised short cut home from school through an empty lot. It was there that a man dragged me into bushes, gagged and raped me. It was less than two weeks after my 12th birthday.
My granddaughter Ellie came to visit one mild day and we had a whole 3 1/2 hours with her alone at our house while my daughter Anna visited friends in the area.
It was the first time we had her alone at our house for that long. I loved it.
About 40 years and two weeks ago, on one of our daily drives, I parked in front of a record store on the East Side of Buffalo and asked my mother to pick some music that she knew, but which I had never heard. I told her I would buy whatever record she picked.