All in a Golden Afternoon: Remembering Cambridge
Like young love, travel when you’re young can turn from astonishing to disastrous and back again faster than you could ever guess. Seeing with fresh eyes leaves deep imprints, and if your world was rather small and tightly enclosed, like mine, what unfolds amazes all the more.
By luck so good it was difficult to comprehend, I found myself set free abroad for six months with no responsibilities whatsoever, except to manage on the tiny savings from my first real job. My world was eastern Pennsylvania, with family summer excursions to our grandparents’ farm in the central mountains. We ventured to the New Jersey shore once or twice, and I attended college in both states. The arduous journey of my mother’s ancestors from Switzerland to Pennsylvania in 1719 was evidently
