I was a child of the Super Sixties and came of age during Flower Children, Hippies, and Black Power. However, I grew up in a small town in Central California famous for it's Cotton and Cattle, Corcoran California. Now it's famous because Charles Mason is imprisoned there, Prison is a huge industry in California.

Corcoran was a sleepy little town and when I was growing up although Civil Rights were being fought for and Sit-ins were being waged in the South, none of that was really talked about in my family. It was War for my parents to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads and the same for my friends. I knew what prejudice and racism was but only from a child's perspective. My mother instilled in me to accept folks for who they were NOT the color of their skin

I was to learn that lesson sooner than later. My first job was with Pacific Bell Telephone Company as an Operator, the year was 1969. It was a great paying job for someone straight out of High School and a great stepping stone for me. I graduated early at Sixteen and was immediately thrown in with a diverse group of adults from all over the country...many from Lemoore Naval Air Station nearby.

One Lady remains vividly in my memory: Jackie, tall, beautiful, with one of the first Afro Hairstyles I'd ever seen. She was from Chicago and looked just like Cleopatra Jones from the famous Blaxplotation movie. She was my Hero, I wanted to be like her. She was the epitome of Black Hip Coolness to me fresh off the turnip truck. Hilariously, I was her mini me. Needless to say she was all about Black Power and I was eager to learn.

On the other hand another operator named Linda got on my last nerve as she was always trying to engage me in conversation when we sat next each other on the switchboard. I cringed whenever she plugged in next to me...I just could not get past the Hillbilly Twang in her voice...it just rubbed me the wrong way no matter how hard I tried.

Jackie ended up transferring back to Chicago once her husband's Naval tour ended...I was alone again with that never ending twanging chatter of Linda every time she plugged in next to me. Linda never gave up, she wore me down, until one day I stopped noticing the 'twang' in her voice. We became friends and she was one of the best friends I ever made.

Even when I moved on I kept in touch with Linda as she was like family. She teased me all the time saying that she knew all along that she got on my nerves but she was on a mission...and she accomplished that mission. Linda had breast cancer and passed years ago but I still can hear that 'twang' when I think of her...and I smile.