Letter Home
10 August 1977

No, I'm not dead. I'm alive and well and learning how to use the subways in Brooklyn. I left Bloomington (Indiana University) last Wednesday and drove straight through to Ridgewood, New Jersey with my friend David. I stayed at his parents' house the weekend (they have a pool!) and came into New York Monday. Now I'm staying with some friends from Fort Wright (College in Spokane, Washington).

Lots to do around here, within the next few days I'll settle down to serious job-hunting. The area we're in (Park Slope, Brooklyn) is interesting. People have bought many of the old brownstones and are fixing them up. A few years ago the area was a slum but bit by bit it's being reclaimed (and rents are going up -- minimum is about $200 a month and a livable place runs $300 - 400). Just a block south it's still pretty run down, mainly Puerto Rican families (I don't think Dennis [my brother] would be very comfortable here since 90% of the residents are Black or Puerto Rican). I think I'm the only blond in the Borough of Brooklyn. My hair is almost white from working in the cornfields this summer.

I'll write more later, just wanted you to know I'm safe and sound and that (serial killer) Son of Sam hasn't got me yet.