The summer of 1988 was the bridge between my junior and senior year in college. I had turned down an internship in Boston to return home to attend to some family matters. Home was Katonah, NY, not exactly a hotbed of communications and journalism internships in 1988. But, I was home. My parent’s marriage was not in great shape, which meant my parents and my sister and I were all going to attend family therapy.
I had no internship, no job, and was completely unnerved by the pressure that I was feeling. In a year I would be a college graduate, and my ‘ticket’ to a post-college job was dashed because of family. After an absolutely dismal first family therapy session, I got in my Chevy Chevette and drove. I had no destination, I just had to be alone and clear my head.
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