Tuesday, April 23, 2019

ONCE UPON A TIME AT NOTRE DAME

by Ray Jason

How I will always think of her.
      Long ago and far to the North, a stranger gave me a little gift. It was a modest offering, but it proved quite meaningful at a crossroads moment in my life. Having recently returned from Vietnam, and seeking a way to make a living that would not contribute to the U.S. War Machine, I was doing a little juggling act on the streets of San Francisco.
      This was in 1971 when the American revival in street performing was just beginning. Scattered about the sidewalks, one could find mimes and singers and magicians. But there were no jugglers. I had learned basic juggling at a summer camp in my early teens, and decided to put together a little show to sustain me while I “got my head back together.” My assumption was that this would require a few months, and then I would settle into some sort of real job.

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