Another glorious day! October paints fine art. Serenity and peace. Life is as good as we allow it to be. We look for the pot of gold at our front door. Such a life. What an adventure. ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life.’ We sit under the Tree. The acorns fall, and we know not from whence they came. Good things happen, and we continue to eat of the bounty and look not for our benefactor. We are called upon to let go. Spending the bulk of our lives acquiring, we now have to release. It is all a dream. As we rode the carousel, we reached for the brass ring. When we grasped it in our hot little hand, we rejoiced. Now we were in the game. Now we were players. The world was our oyster.

I have a new Outback Leather Hat. I like its wide brim. I strike a peculiar look. I am at home with the preculiarity. That is me. I am a little off center. I think a bit differently than some. I noticed Pastor Kerry this Sunday and thought, ‘What a good guy.’ Simply a good human being. I appreciate all he has done for our little congregation. His brilliant sense of humor has lightened my load. He has an infectious smile. To know him is to understand the joy of being a Christian. He retires at the end of the year, and I will miss him.

A good pastor is a gift from God. Someone who brings the Christian message as Jesus intended. Christian life is refreshing and rejuvenating when lived as Christ taught. Fall brings a spring in the step. We spy with our little eye the holidays. A time for renewal and reflection. Where have we been and where are we going?

‘I am excited about the fall bonfire,’ Chet exclaimed. ‘We will be dressed in our Halloween costumes and playing our Halloween roles,’ Chet noted. ‘Of course I will be the Lost In Space Robot,’ Chet winked. ‘I am excited that Billy B will play Dr. Smith,’ Chet noted. ‘We will land on Alpha Centauri and have a dialogue with the inhabitants of the planet,’ Chet laughed. ‘Of course, Dr. Smith will proclaim, ‘Oh, the Pain.’Will Robinson will rescue us from the ensuing battle, and I will say, ‘That does not compute,’ Chet said. ‘ The aliens’ costumes will look like they were purchased at the Ben Franklin Dime Store,’ Chet laughed. ‘The budget for Lost In Space was always wanting,’ Chet winked.

‘Where are we?’ Will Robinson asked. ‘We have landed in Roswell, New Mexico, on the planet Earth,’ the Robot answered. ‘Before us a Flying Saucer that followed us down and crashed on the approach to Roswell,’ the Robot continued. ‘We are in 1947,’ the Robot continued. ‘Mr. Mac Brazel is here asking questions,’ the Robot reported. ‘This is his property,’ the Lost In Space Robot said matter-of-factly. ‘Mac has already seen the little aliens with big heads and big black eyes,’ the Robot noted. ‘Jesse Marcel believes the flying saucer and the little Grey Men are extraterrestrial, the Robot intoned. ‘This will be covered up by the military at this time due to the government not admitting their knowledge of life on other planets,’ the Robot assured.

‘Where are you from?’ Dr. Smith asked the Greys. ‘Are you from Alpha Centauri?’ Dr. Smith asked. ‘I stowed away on the ship and we left Earth five years ago,’ Dr. Smith asked. ‘You look like Alpha Centaurians, ‘ Dr. Smith observed. ‘Your eyes are kind and large,’ Dr. Smith observed with a smile.

‘We have come to warn the inhabitants of Earth,’ Grey Alien said. ‘We come in peace,’ Grey Alien continued. ‘We are creatures of peace,’ GA informed. ‘What you seek surrounds you,’ GA informed. ‘War is not the answer,’ GA said. ‘Bombs are not the answer,’ GA said. ‘Peace is the answer,’ GA promised.

The days are getting shorter. The evening shadows fall. Cool air is resplendent in Brooks Pond. There is hope for good. The Cubs lost, but there is next year. A single bird tweets to its children that it is time to come home. They are out doing what kids do in the fall. Jay Bird is watching Lassie on TV. Jay B. likes the adventures of Timmy and Lassie on Sunday night. Soon it will be time for bed and school on Monday morning. Jay Bird considers how regular life is with Monday through Friday school, and then the fun weekends. The Thing played at the Orpheum Theatre. It is a scary flick with James Arness playing the monster. The same actor who portrayed Marshall Dillon on Gunsmoke. Or as Chester called him, Mr. Dillon. Jay Bird did not often see Gunsmoke, as it was after his bedtime.

Autumn comes with what is and what was. The Bullfrog Quartet has on their L.L. Bean Sweaters. The days are warm, but the nights are cold. At least cold now but later in the winter, it will seem temperate. Soon, it will be prime leaf-viewing season. My birthday week is the epitome of changing leaves. It was October 1963 when we sat on the wrap-around front porch of the Victorian Haunted House we rented in Eldorado. We watched the Eldorado Eagles Football Team play across the Illinois Avenue. Uncle Bill Junior, and Jay Bird. The air was brisk. The lights were bright. The fans cheered. It was another world. There was a well in the backyard from which emanated weird sounds. The football players appeared spectral under the lights. Junior smoked Pall Malls and Bill L & M cigarettes. They spoke of their World War II experiences and laughed about unseen events, at least to Jay Bird.

A mournful cry comes over Brooks Pond. It is dark and impossible to see where it is coming from. It sounds a bit like a wolf and a lamb talking. Could it be a sad child? At first, it sounds like a Halloween sound effect. The longer it goes, the more frightening it seems. The Bullfrogs sing in muted tones this evening. The crying wolf-lamb-child has affected their resonance. They hum their musical score, listening to a mixture of fear and frivolity. Are we headed to the zenith or the abyss? Did the wolf prevail or the lamb? Was the child part of the guttural cry or an observer of the eternal fight of good and evil?

Forty-seven years ago today, I began at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale. I was working for my friend Brent, laying carpet. I asked him if I could take a few minutes to walk to a payphone to see if I had a telephone call from SIU. When I called our pastor’s wife, she joyously told me that I had been hired at the University and was to be at the Building Services Office at 4:00 that afternoon. I was overjoyed and called MJ from the Payphone to give her the good news. Our lives had just changed. When I reported to the Office, the custodial supervisor spoke with me for nearly an hour. I finally asked him what the job paid per hour, and it was fifty cents more than what I had thought. Mr. Young told me that the fastest way to make a good name in the organization was to do a good job. I began that night to work on the Good Name part of the plan.

MJ was a school teacher, and I was a poor boy from Eldorado. I wanted to make a good life for us. We were able to trade our two junker automobiles for a new LTD Coupe. I could not imagine what it would be like to have a new car. The Christmas of 1978, I thought as we drove to see Grandma Neva J and Grandpa Earl, that I was bringing them Christmas gifts in our new car. In early 1979, we purchased a small house. It had a massive picture window and a concrete driveway. I thought I was a millionaire.

Some days define us. October 10, 1978, set us on a happy path. I watched as my Hare friends ran past me while I moseyed along. I was the tortoise, seemingly slow to get off the starting block. I took everything in for later use. I understood that the race was not to the swift or the strong. I knew my Guardian Angel was with me. I had faith that everything would be alright.

Significant days happen to us unawares. We have to look back to see. Many of us believe that God is watching. Since he has always been and always will be, he sees our lives from the beginning to the end. God must not linearly follow our story. He is present in all of the moments of our lives.

Looking forward and watching for what is coming around the corner. Christmas is coming. A time for family and friends. Love and good food. Gifts to commemorate the gift of Christ come to live with us. The old truths are the best. Not the muscular John Wayne Christian Nationalist philosophy. Not the get-rich scheme of the prosperity doctrine. I knew Grandma A was a Christian. She was not rich. She followed what her pastor preached and read her Bible daily. Grandma A’s house was open to all. If she had food, you had dinner. Neva J was like her mom. If you needed a coat, Neva J would give you one. If you had trouble paying your light bill, Neva J would pay it. The shunned of the town were Neva J’s friends.

‘Why must we gather in the Woods?’ Chet asked the Preacher. ‘Not long ago, we were welcome in the finest churches in the town,’ Chet continued. ‘The poor sat with us in the pews and we helped them get on their feet,’ Chet noted. ‘We were humble and thought little of our accomplishments,’ Chet said. ‘We considered others better than ourselves,’ Chet whispered. ‘We learned from others rather than preach to them,’ Chet considered.

‘Christians were a minority in Jerusalem in the days of Christ,’ the Preacher said. ‘Following the carpenter and his band of fishermen was not popular,’ the Preacher continued. ‘The Pharisees and Sadducees did not accept Christ’s message of love and sought to silence him,’ the Preacher said.

The Autumn air is refreshing. It holds the promise of the holidays. Hope is in the smells and the leaves. The dappled sunlight plays through the limbs of the trees. Suprised by joy, we venture into the future. At times, we know what we do not know. Our counsel is true, we think. Buffeted by chance and time, we believe we understand the future. Surprise is a constant in our journey. Happiness is peeking around the corner at us. The chapters of our time turn like the leaves on the trees. We may not realize the chapter has changed.

Fall teaches me that I will never complete my education. I learn new things daily. Walking as a human on Earth is a constant surprise. Life does not come with an instruction manual. What you think is going to happen often does not. When you are certain that something will not happen, it does. The eyes of Texas are upon you. People are watching.

The Preacher gathered his little flock in the Woods. They gathered seeking acceptance. They had come from fear. The Leader cried out for the blood of his enemies. Retribution was his lodestar. The church in the Woods was a sanctuary. The Preacher was prophetic. The Woods residents came wearing their best. Mr. Mole had on his best suit. His spectacles were perched precariously on his nose. He carried his copy of The Wind In The Willows. Mr. Mole often quoted Edgar Allen Poe. Mr. Mole had heard that the Preacher accepted all of God’s creation. The Preacher had no fear. Mr. Badger joined Mr. Mole in his vest and leather hat. Mr. Badger knew cold weather was coming. Mr. Badger had told Mr. Toad to dock the boat on the lake in the Woods so that they would have a means of transportation home after the meeting.

‘I am so pleased you all could come,’ the Preacher said. ‘Without our conclave are wolves in sheep’s clothing,’ the Preacher said. ‘The message of God is to love each other as you love yourself,’ the Preacher said. ‘Fear not the ravings of an unstable mind,’ the Preacher said. ‘All are welcome here and no one shall be denied, the Preacher said. ‘Money is not the secret of the Creator,’ the Preacher proclaimed. ‘Capitalism is not the doctrine of Christ,’ the Preacher noted. ‘Good is coming if you can receive it,’ the Preacher promised. ‘God created the animal kingdom and the human family to live together in harmony,’ the Preacher promised. ‘Hate is nowhere in the Bible,’ said the Preacher. ‘A storm cloud is passing over but will soon be gone, and the Sun will shine again,’ the Preacher said.

‘I loved what the Preacher said,’ Mr. Mole said. ‘He accepts all of God’s creation without favorites or cliques,’ Mr. Mole noted. ‘I felt welcome as a nearsighted Mole,’ Mr. Mole noted. ‘I think we must learn to love each other or go into the abyss,’ Mr. Mole said solemnly.

‘This Halloween, we shall camp in the Woods on Halloween night,’ said Chet. ‘We will dress in our Halloween costumes and drink hot cider and Merlot that Neva J will provide,’ Chet laughed. ‘I will be camping as the Lost In Space Robot,’ Chet informed. ‘We will build a campfire and tell ghost stories,’ Chet grinned. ‘I have a doozy regarding the Headless Horseman, Chet winked. ‘I saw the real Headless Horseman last year in the Woods,’ Chet said somberly. ‘He held a Jack-O-Lantern under his arm to play the role of his head,’ Chet said with a shudder. ‘When he spoke to me, the words came from the Jack-O-Lantern’s gaping mouth,’ Chet said. ‘The Jack-O-Lantern said for me to gather my friends this Halloween for a scary event,’ Chet noted. ‘Jack O said he would be bringing a surprise guest,’ Chet explained.

‘Have another glass of Merlot and some more Oscar Mayer Weiners straight out of the package,’ Neva J admonished. ‘Some of the Woods Family are joining us for the ghost story, Neva J mentioned. ‘Mr. Badger and Mr. Mole are on their way, along with the Wolfman,’ Neva J smiled. ‘Wolfy, as he likes to be called, is a Maltese in Wolf’s clothing,’ Neva J winked as she quaffed a tumbler of Merlot. ‘I went to school with Wolfy, and he was a hit with all of the girls,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Wolfy could spin a fantastic yarn that for a moment you believed,’ Neva J said. ‘He had been to exotic places and succeeded in many endeavours, although we were still in high school,’ Neva J explained. ‘Before his Tall Tale was completed, you understood that he would have to be at least three times his age to have accomplished all he had proclaimed,’ Neva J said with certainty. ‘Wolfy and I dated for a while,’ Neva J said. ‘His outward persona hid an inner child,’ Neva J noted.

‘Greetings, all I am pleased to see you could make it,’ Jack O said. ‘My good friend Wolfy will be joining us shortly as he is currently howling at the full moon,’ Jack O said with a wide grin. ‘Have you seen anything scary so far?’ Jack O asked. ‘There are reports of Frankenstein in the Woods tonight,’ Jack O said. ‘I hear you will smell the cigar smoke before you see Frank,’ Jack O noted. ‘He is only frightening until you know him,’ Jack O explained. ‘Frank N. Stein loves vintage Merlot and is coming, I think, for Neva J’s supply and a lovely evening with Wolfy and fine cigars,’ Jack O explained.

‘Greetings all, I had to stop to admire the full Moon and howl my pleasure to the sky,’ Wolfy said with a wide, toothy smile. ‘Try as I might, I can not resist a good howl,’ Wolfy laughed. ‘Isn’t Jack O a hoot with his head under his arm,’ Wolfly asked. ‘I am told I have a Maltese body, but inside I have a little wolf in me,’ Wolfy said.

‘Yo Ho to all,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘I hope Mr. Mole and Mr. Toad and I are not too late for the ghost story,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘Moley loves a good ghost story,’ Mr. Badger laughed. ‘Mr. Mole reads Edgar Allen Poe regularly,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘Moley is a bibliophile,’ Mr. Badger exclaimed. ‘He has read more ghost stories than any of us have heard,’ Mr. Badger laughed a hearty laugh. ‘Mr. Mole loves the story of the Tell-Tale Heart and The Raven,’ Mr. Badger noted. ‘Moley has several pairs of glasses staged around his house to ensure that he always has a pair for reading,’ Mr. Badger informed. ‘Mr. Mole is a Poe aficionado,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘He lives, eats, and breathes Poe,’ Mr. Badger winked knowingly. ‘Moley has won several Poe contests where the competition is to recite from memory long Poe passages from his obscure and famous treatise,’ Mr. Badger said proudly. ‘Mr. Mole has fine art paintings of Edgar Allen Poe throughout his house, Mr. Badger informed us for understanding. ‘Mr. Mole is a second cousin of Edgar Allen Poe, twice removed,’ Mr. Badger said.

It is a crisp morning. Autumnal and well-received. My favorite weather. My favorite season. Holidays are in the air. It is time to sally forth. Meet the moment and immerse yourself in the fall weather. The Cubs play today. They are two games behind in a best-of-five game competition. It is win or go home. MJ is a Cubs fan. She consumes the games with joy. I glance toward the television as I am passing by. I visited Wrigley Field twice in the ’80s and thoroughly enjoyed both visits. The young men of summer have long retired, and some have died. Yet they and I were full of life in those halcyon days. MJ said we would walk to the ballpark. She noted that on the map, it was only about an inch between our hotel and Wrigley. Three miles later, we arrived. A Hare Krishna person offered me a book for free, and I took it; however, he then wanted $30. I gave the book back to him.

I watched the first episode of a streaming show regarding the attack on Israel on October 7th two years ago. It illustrated Palestinians helping a Jewish woman to safety. At the conclusion, the actress portraying the Jewish runner and the Palestinian man clasped hands in solidarity regarding what they had just experienced, where both feared for their lives. Then the image became the actual people holding hands and their reunion of joy with Jewish and Palestinian people united by the Terror that they both endured. The Jewish woman lived in the Kibbutz that was attacked, and the Palestinian man worked in the kitchen of the Kibbutz. They were united by their shared humanity.

We are all on this journey together. Fall is here, and hope surrounds us. Time to settle under the falling leaves and ponder how we might change as the seasons do. I love Autumn and winter clothing. Sweaters and jackets, flannel shirts and leather hats. Time for walks in the Woods and reflection on matters of the heart. We are here for a short time. You can not tell of our brevity by how we build bigger and better. The statues we erect to our time here. We gather more hay into our barns for fear of winter. We see the deprived, hungry, and cold. Rather than help them, we fear we are next.

Work demands much. Often it demands too much. Some lives are subsumed in their career. Work is good, but it is not life. Life is poetry and prose. Life is autumn in the Woods. Thoughts of life and change what comes next. A sense of place. The joy in another’s eyes. Dreams of the future. Fond memories of the past.

October sings its siren song. The serenity of simplicity. The peace of place. The security of roots that go deep and limbs that reach for the sky. A gray squirrel ran across the lawn. He had neither fear nor dread. His life is grounded in his appointed rounds. The Old Man noticed the leaves were falling early in August. Not so now, as October is a week in progress. We are made for peace, not war. War is an unnatural state. When we are full and have lodging, we set our minds on making life better for those who do not enjoy such luxuries. Homelessness is a crime against humanity.

The Cubs are down by two games. Cubs fans are worried. We love the eternal struggle. I reflected on life at Southern Illinois University. I became adept at the political negotiations to survive. MJ and my recent favorite show, The Morning Show with Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon, reminded me of the snares and traps of office life. Bosses say one thing and mean another. Perception is over 90% of reality. The societal construct of what Board you are on and who you play golf with. Exhausting and illustrating the need for an advocate for working people. I filled that role for most of my career. My dear friend Elizabeth has filled the same role admirably for some time. The poor of the land are faceless to the administration. When they think of staff, they see their staff who, by most standards, have Cadillac Problems. It is the rare leader who gets to know the factory line workers.

Most of us are line workers in life. We are blessed and still looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The manifest simplicity of life continues. At times, we lose the plot. We become so busy jumping the hurdles of life that we forget the finish line. It is time to walk through the leaves and gaze at the autumn sky. We want so much, we need little. One pair of shoes will keep our feet warm. 20 pairs will feed our ego. Our Ford is great, but wouldn’t the Lincoln be better?

Patience preserves our souls. Moderation is the key. Happy experiences come from new places. Happiness comes from within. There is no magic journey that brings joy, nor is there a pill to take. Joy comes from our satisfied hearts.

The Old Man walked with his friends and reflected on the journey. He had seen preachers who loved money, fine cars, and exquisite clothes. The Preacher bragged about how much his necktie and his shoes. He had little time for the poor of the congregation. He was in his own heaven. The Preacher called his financial bounty God’s Blessings. In reality, the poor of the church did without necessities so that the Preacher could have abundance. He told the flock to do what he told them to do and give money until it hurts, and then they will have monetary blessings like he did. One problem…the poor did not have a church full of hard-working people to give them the money to provide the lifestyle of the Preacher.

It is here, October Rain. Change is happening. Fall woke from its slumber and said it was time to go. Autumn put on its slicker and its yellow rain cap and smoked a pipe. ‘It is a bit hot for October 6th,’ Autumn said thoughtfully as he puffed on his meerschaum pipe. ‘I must shake sleep from my eyes and beard and set about my business,’ A noted. ‘Soon the kiddos will Trick or Treat and I must be prepared,’ A considered. ‘The rain will settle the dust of the hot summer and focus the mind on important matters,’ A smiled. ‘Would you like a cup of mulled cider, Equinox dear?’ Autumn asked his wife. ‘I have been steeping it on the hearth,’ A smiled.

‘I did not sleep well,’ Equinox said. ‘It has been too hot,’ Equinox explained. ‘Usually by October 6th, we have chilly mornings and crisp days in the Woods,’ E laughed. ‘Then leaves are falling dry on to the ground,’ E observed. ‘The Old Man crunches through them on his daily walk,’ E laughed. ‘He snaps thousands of photos,’ Equinox winked. ‘Old Man walks with his Guardian Angel,’ E observed. ‘They laugh and talk as the leaves fall,’ E grinned.

‘Do you think that the rain will hurt the rhubarb?’ Mr. Fox asked Mr. Badger. ‘Tomorrow we must unmoor the boat and take a trip down the river,’ Mr. Fox said. ‘Let’s ask Mr. Mole to join us as he is always up for some messing about in boats,’ Fox exclaimed. ‘Of course Mr. Toad must come if we can pry him away from his motor car,’ Fox observed. ‘Ratty will want to come along if he is not already involved in a fall adventure,’ Fox noted.

‘What a glorious day for a boat ride,’ Mr. Toad exulted. ‘I see Mr. Great Blue Heron and Little Blue as well as Mr. Beaver and the Frog Quartet,’ Mr. Toad enthused. ‘The Frogs are motioning us over to them,’ Mr. Toad laughed. ‘Oh my heavens, this is wonderful indeed, they want me to join them for a solo as they sing back up to my vocal incantations,’ Mr. Toad danced on one foot and then the other with his face toward the sky.

Sunday night was marked by the TV shows Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, Marlin Perkins’ Wild Kingdom, and Lassie. Then thoughts returned to school on Monday morning. The weekend had gone by rapidly, as they all have. This time in October, thoughts were on birthdays and Halloween. Then came Thanksgiving and the boss of all holidays, Christmas. Christmas was another world. Christmas Trees and decorations throughout the town. Santa Claus is coming to your house. Neva J singing, ‘Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, will you please put a penny in the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny, a haypenny will do. If you haven’t got a haypenny, God bless you.

I looked at the photos of my classmates at our 50th reunion and instantly saw them as the children we were over 50 years ago. They are frozen in time in my mind’s eye. They have not aged. I remembered their kindness and good humor. I hear the infectious laughs. I recall their enthusiastic cheers for the Eldorado Eagles. When I saw a photo of those who are no longer with us, I was saddened. I could hear the ‘Forever Young’ speak to me as if we were sitting in class. I could see their youthful smiles and hopes for the future.

Life is a mystery. We are young for a moment. We know our moment is special. At times, we do not realize that we are in the midst of our moment while we are waiting for it to begin.

The stage is set. We are in the wings waiting to walk on. We have learned our lines. We have our costume in place. The photographer widens the aperture. The Play is happening while we wait in the wings. The wings are part of the Play. Everything is a scene in the production. Do we hope to start living while life is progressing?

We grow older, but our hearts do not. We love and are loved. We hope and fear and pray. We want to get our part right. We want our lines to count. We want to understand the Secret…

October is a special month. A month I anticipate all year. I was hired on October 10, 1978, at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale. It is a date that lives in the highlights of the Brooks Family Book. A day that changed our lives. We went from outside looking in the window to having a chair by the fireplace. It was warm and cozy by the fireside of opportunity. We went from having two junker cars to buying an LTD Coupe. A brand new car that was listed for 7K but was reduced to 6K. The car payments were $170 per month, and MJ cried for fear we would not be able to make the payment. We did. Soon we bought a little house. It was a sense of place. It felt good to be a homeowner. The little house had a concrete driveway and a humongous picture window. Three and a half years later, Aaron made his appearance. A six-foot Christmas Tree was strategically placed in front of the herculean picture window. We had arrived. MJ hosted Thanksgiving in our four-room house. One Thanksgiving, we had 24 members of our family. When one person moved, we all shifted. Earl brought smoked meat, and Neva J enjoyed shots of rum that MJ gave her. We were as proud as if we lived in a mansion. To this day, the Thanksgivings in the little house are lodged in my heart.

Aaron’s first Christmas came. We wanted something special. We purchased a handmade Nativity for $100 and thought we spent $1000.00. No one would outdo the Brooks. We had moved into the block and were there to stay. Not everyone had a concrete driveway. We came from poor folks. People who enjoyed going to the Dairy Queen on Friday night. We watched the cars pass by while we ate our nickel ice cream cones. Pride was shunned among the hardscrabble people of Eldorado. We were proud that we knew Jesus and that we earned an honest dollar.

Berl told me after I was hired in Building Services at SIUC that he would like to see me get a good job at the University. He thought I could do better and told me so regularly. Earl asked me why I did not take the Security Police Civil Service Exam. He knew that the Security Police would be much greater than a Building Service Worker I. Years later, Earl became a Building Service Worker I and enjoyed it. Although he did ask me if her was too old for a Security Officer.

I was born on October 24, 1957. For years, it was hard for me to remember if my birth year was 1957 or 1958. We came from Chicago on a Harley-Davidson. We were cool cats. Dad wore a motorcycle cap and carried a gun. Mom wore a red scarf and was so beautiful in the sunlight. I sat in the middle and wondered what it all meant. Eldorado was like another planet. I knew no one, and they did not know me. I had gone from having plenty to having nothing. Neva J could not afford the 20 cents a day for school lunch, so I was the only kid in the first-grade class to carry my lunch in a brown paper bag. Some of my classmates asked me if I did not have only 20 cents, and I thought 20 cents was a lot when you do not have it. President Kennedy was assassinated in November. School let out early. Neva J cried. I had several friends on the block in Chicago. Now I had none, not even 20 cents to buy lunch.