Today's letter is hard. It's from my friend Mary - the Mary I haven't found again. No one seems to know where she is. It's dated June 1, 1963. Apparently, I have decided to ditch school and head for Chicago. Which is what I actually did. Mary's letter is a word of warning, and an offer of help and support. How would my life have been different had I listened? Again, I don't really regret my life - the places it's taken me, the place I am today. So many things would not have happened. But - in the short run, what she tells me is fairly much what happened.

She's writing to the tune of The Kingston Trio on full-volume. She tells me she knows I won't be happy in any job that doesn't require a degree. Apparently I'm having trouble with "Larry" - and I know I've been flirting with a 6'8" man at school - I ended up marrying him a couple of years later, because I did go to Chicago, and I wasn't happy in any job I had, and when he asked me to marry him, I said, "Let's do it quick, before I change my mind."

She asks me to come home for the summer - all our friends will be there. She offers to let me live with her - that her mother is inviting me to stay - if I don't want to go home. She offers love and support. I did not take her up on it. All my old friends from home - I lost them all that summer. Not that they did not want me anymore - I didn't want them. I was in Chicago. We lost touch. I didn't miss them until it was too late.