1967

During the summer of 1967, I worked for Head Start. I, like many of my generation, took to heart John F. Kennedy's charge to do something for my country, and so I tried to. My summer that summer provided me, a rather naive 14 year old young woman of middle-class, small-town ease and security, quite an eyeopening experience. One of my most vivid memories of my time working with these preschoolers is lunch time, when I would pass out trays of food and eat with my charges. I remember being asked time and time again to identify the food presented. It seemed unfathomable to me that any child should have never before seen nor eaten a piece of cheese or an apple...

The summer of 1967 also began The Central Pennsylvania Festival of the Arts in my hometown. This festival, now drawing an estimated 125,000 people, began as a way to showcase local art, hung from storm fences set up all along College Avenue, the main street of our university town. The festival served as a gathering event for us high school students, who connected by talking to each other from kitchen telephones outfitted with long cords, which in my case allowed me to slip into a hall closet for more privacy. I cherish a vintage print from that early festival era bought and framed as a Christmas gift for my mother. It hangs in our pantry.

I still walk through the festival, and I still purchase art for gifts. Among those gifts this year were two sets of salad spoons for upcoming wedding showers. I always stop and buy something from Jonathan's Spoons, and I am especially drawn to the flame blackened implements. To go with the spoons and to serve as gift wrap, I knitted up some traditional ball band dishcloths, matched them a set of tea towels and tied them up with satin ribbon.