I haven’t seen Jackie Cash in thirty (thirty-five?) years. She was a year behind me in high school and I had a bit of a crush on her. She found her way to a couple of my websites last week:
“…we watched her nephews Everett and Matthew sing about Rudy and then she read every word about KBOA the early days. She really enjoyed it. You have a 20 minute interview with Paul about the radio and it was neat for them to hear his voice and share it with Robin’s children who never knew Mr. Jones. I just thought you’d like to know how you’re reaching people.”
This is, for me, the reason we spend countless hours constructing these websites. In hopes that somebody will find them and find them interesting. (Why has the “letter-in-a-bottle” analogy never occurred to me before?)
As I read Jackie’s email, the image I had of her was the high school girl I knew. And then I realized that she is now in her early fifties and –probably– older than her mother was when we were in high school. I confess to a strange sense of loss that’s hard to explain. My youth, perhaps.