It was the quiet center of my new, very noisy life. I loved Houston. Yes, I noticed that it’s so hot and humid in summer that it’s hard to breathe. I am aware that people in Houston spend more time sitting in their cars trapped in freeway traffic than they do at all of the arts, music and cultural events of the city combined. I still liked it. Everything about the place seemed new. Even the old staid halls of the university were all twentieth century. There was a building boom in every sector of the city. It was as if Houston, and everyone in it, were under construction. I fit right in. I arrived in September of 1976, alone and on my own. I drove down in my new red Chevy Chevette, a graduation gift from Aunt Maxine. My mother was furious about Aunt Maxine providing my getaway car, but there was nothing that she could do about it. Everyone had sided with me and Babs just had to lump it.
