When I was 19 I left home. Big fat deal. How come I was “so old!” But this was 1951. And in 1951, good Jewish girls didn’t leave home at 19 unless… They’re getting married. Or moving out of town. I was terrified. I was leaving the known for the unknown But I was moving driven by the need for survival. And for survival I had no choice I had to move. The night before the move, I had a dream. I was in a burning building. I had to jump if I was going to survive. But if I did, I faced falling 20 stories down. Sure death. But if I didn’t jump I would be burnt alive by the fire. At the last moment I jumped............. I opened my eyes. I was alive!!!!!!!!!! I had fallen on a rooftop below!
That first terrifying move I made
was the pattern for the rest of my life: Crossing the line. Always the terror. And always landing on another roof top ……with a new world opening up…. ..........with new possibilities. With that first crossing of the terror-ridden line, I had discovered the adventure in living!!!
