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At 19 years old I’d lived a fairly charmed life. I grew up in an affluent NYC suburb with loving, if flawed, parents. It was the 1950’s and my father believed that women had specific (traditional) roles. As the youngest of 3 the rules were somewhat relaxed for me, but I chaffed under their weight nonetheless. So I rebelled, in a mostly ladylike manner. In the fall of 1972 all that had been before, my childish notions about the inherent goodness of all people, idealistic political views, and my core belief that my parents could fix anything, were run through a meat grinder, never to be the same again. It was the beginning of 20 months in hell.