When I was writing Sixty-Eight Years of Hair, I poured through my scrapbooks and photograph albums. This week I went back and looked through the college scrapbook again. I found it primarily focused on the non-academic part of my freshman year of college.

There were two letters I had written my parents and a letter one of my classmate’s mother had written my mother about me in the scrapbook. Looking at the photos and reading the letters was like standing in front of a mirror, one which reflected that year of my life. Continue reading “A Glimpse of My Life as a College Freshman (1966-67)” →