She didn’t know before I wrote this, but there’s a woman in Boston who I’ve long thought of as my Little Red-Haired Girl. (My mother nicknamed me Charlie Brown for a while, so...) I left her behind in March 1979 when I moved from Cabin John, Md., to Saipan, the principal island of the U.S. Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands. I saw her only twice after that: at the high school I would have attended if I’d stayed in Maryland and then in Chicago’s O’Hare airport on a trip back to the states. She had moved there sometime before finishing high school, I think.
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