
Monday, August 20, 1973 The fog is starting to come up Portola Drive and will be here in no time — matches my mood. I’m sad, really sad. It’s Erica. I miss her. Listening to the Quincy Jones’s and “Love … Continue reading
Monday, August 20, 1973 The fog is starting to come up Portola Drive and will be here in no time — matches my mood. I’m sad, really sad. It’s Erica. I miss her. Listening to the Quincy Jones’s and “Love … Continue reading
Sunday, August 19, 1973 Well, all good things come to an end. Erica left an hour ago to start her freshman year at UCLA — with her mother driving her to L.A. Yes, it was time for her to go —but … Continue reading