1974 The Concorde

I worked at Air France in New York when the Concorde was developed. One of the people in our office won a trip on the Inaugural flight from Paris to Rio. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to, I never got to fly on one, though I did see one depart from DFW once.

1350 Avenue of the Americas, NYC

We was walking out to the plane and suddenly there was a tremendous noise.  Someone behind me said, "That's a Concorde!"  Immediately everyone in line just ran to the tarmac where we could see the runway.  We all stood there watching in awe, totally ignoring our own boarding.  The stewardesses were there too though.  It was incredibly loud, and I never forgot it.

Concorde takeoff

Many years later, I went on board the BA Concorde at the Museum of Flight at Boeing Field.  My goodness, it was so small.  I think it would have been a little scary to be inside that bullet.  But I wish I had gotten the chance.

British Airways Concorde
Museum of Flight, Seattle

1972 My First Fast Food Meal

In 1972, David and I lived on Jones Street in the Village in New York City.  We had just gotten our first "show" Afghan Hound puppy, Mandy (Alarickhan's Fortune Teller).

In May, I entered Mandy in the Trenton Kennel Club dog show, at the time the largest show in the country.  I went with my friend Hina, who bred and showed Irish Setters, but they were more field types than show types.  She never stopped ranting about how the conformation judges totally ignored the function of the dog in favor of coat and prettiness.  We went to the show in her old beat-up station wagon; Hina, me, Mandy, and 3 full-sized, energetic Irish Setters.   

Anne Rogers Clark "Annie"

The Afghan Hound judge was Ann Rogers Clark.  She was imposing at 6 feet 2 inches tall, but she was wonderful.  She gave me a handling class in the ring (which I am sure the other exhibitors really appreciated).  There were 15 puppies in the puppy class that day.  She told me to come talk to her after the judging, which of course I did.  She explained some things to me about stacking and show leads, etc.  Then she said that it was obvious I loved Mandy, but that if I was serious about showing, I should go look for a show puppy.     

On the way home, the car started to overhead so Hina pulled into a gas station not too far from the entrance to the Holland Tunnel.  She opened the hood and got a bucket of water, which she proceeded to throw on the engine.  It was a disaster, because apparently she cracked the block.  We were dead in the water so to speak.  All I wanted to do was get home.  I was tired and discouraged, and sick of listening to Hina ranting and raving.  But we were stuck.  

Across the street was a McDonald's, so we decided to walk over there.  It boggled my mind, there were so many people and it was so loud with people milling around, it was very confusing.  We ordered our food and sat down and it actually tasted pretty good. 

1969 My Own Private Woodstock

We didn't go to Woodstock, even though we lived in New York at the time.  However, oddly enough, I had driven to Woodstock about two weeks before the festival (which actually wasn't in Woodstock at all). We had a bunch of extra kittens and cats. My sister had dumped her female cat, Olive, with us, and it turned out she was pregnant and had kittens at the same time our own cat did. I think we had around 18 or 20 kittens, along with our 3 or 4 Afghan Hounds in a one-bedroom bedroom apartment in New York.

At the time David (husband #1) was working at the Bearsville recording studio with Todd Rundgren and a bunch of others, including Albert Grossman, the legendary manager of Bob Dylan, among others. At the time, he was like King Midas, everything he touched turned to gold. Apparently, David mentioned our mob of kittens and Al Grossman said "Bring them up to my farm! We can always use more cats".

I had just gotten my driver’s license, and had never really been anywhere on my own. About a week or so later, we loaded up about 15 kittens in 2 dog crates and off I went all by myself, headed to Woodstock. The farm was awesome, with barns and gorgeous countryside and in incredible house. Upstate New York is so beautiful. I didn't meet Albert Grossman, but someone made me lunch. The truth is that I never wanted to back to the nasty city, but of course, I had to.

I never went through the actual town of Woodstock, but even then, 2 weeks prior, there were signs for the music festival advertising "3 days of peace and music" everywhere. That was such an exciting day for me. I felt liberated. Imagine, I had never really driven anywhere alone and suddenly off I went.

I remember crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge which was always one of my favorites, and I always loved the Taconic Parkway and all the trees. I felt such joy, such an adventure! It was like I was suddenly set free, not dependent on anyone to take me anywhere.