I started my first “real” job on this date in 1963. It was a real job because, for the first time in my life, I became fully responsible for my fate and no longer dependent on parents and institutions of learning.
The job was in the D.C. area, a 600-mile drive from the university where I had recently ended my schooling. I had been to the D.C. area only once before, when I interviewed for the job. Though I was naturally anxious about “making it” in the big city, I exulted in my independence and the rich variety of experiences that could be mine.
What have I learned about life, love, and humanity in the past fifty years? I will essay an answer in a future post.