Halloween Guilt: How I Scared The Crap Out Of An Eight-Year-Old
It was unintentional.
But I should have known better.
It was the Fall of 1974. I was a senior in college and doing my student teaching in Puerto Rico.
(Yeah, yeah. You’re doing the math and figuring out that I was 23. So I took a few extra years in college. So what? I liked school. I stretched it out a little. Just up to the point where my parents lost all patience. Then I reluctantly graduated.)
So anyway, I’m in Puerto Rico, teaching English in a private school, and living with a family from Indiana. To tell the truth, as a Connecticut native, I had less culture shock with the Puerto Rican environment that with Indiana wholesomeness.
But I digress again…
So anyway – again – there were three kids in my temporary family. Flossie was in college like me (okay, a few years younger). She went back to Ohio…
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