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From The Publisher's Desk
The summer of 1969 was the last summer I lived at home in Lomita with my parents. I had just completed my freshman year of college and spent that summer working and taking a class at Long Beach State. I had left my heart (and my soul) in San Francisco and couldn’t wait to get back. Come August I would move back into the same dorm with the same roommate and continue my college life.
In the fall of 1968 I arrived at the University of San Francisco with my mother and checked into Hayes-Healy Hall. My curiosity about my first college roommate had kept me awake nights, and I couldn’t wait to meet her. It didn’t take long to notice that all the other freshmen girls on my floor were paired up. When I asked where my roommate was, I was told my roommate was a sophomore. It was a cruel twist of fate to have to spend the first three days and nights of college without a roommate. There was no one to walk to dinner with, no one to go to orientation meetings with, no one in the room to talk to about the anxieties of those first days of college life.
When Claire finally showed up, it was with flair. At first I thought she was a princess with servants. A beautiful woman holding an armful of semi-formal gowns followed at her heels and spoke in French. A Japanese man carried everything else in multiple trips up and down the stairs.
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