The Spirit of the World ( On and Off)
Portugal
1985 was a tumultuous year for me. The highs were magnificent and the lows incredibly painful. I was working as a Child Protective social worker that investigated child abuse calls along side of law enforcement officers.
Things were changing in the neighborhoods I worked. Violent gangs were appearing despite the intense efforts of the people to keep them out. Crack cocaine and PCP ruined entire families and destroyed the lives of a whole generation in San Diego, California. My job was getting more dangerous as well.
Overshadowing my work was my past life, as a Red Cross worker. I served in Vietnam in 1967. As many of you know, the military men and the civilians who served in the conflict were not welcomed back home. This attitude of the public began to slowly change as The Wall was built and respect for us started to build.
New York City decided to give us a welcome home ticker tape parade in 1985. We were all elated and converged on the city. Millions came out for the parade and the woman walked along side the men, after helicopters flew overhead to begin the parade. Ticker tape reigned down on us and during those moments the healing of a nation seemed complete.
My euphoria was short lived. My best war buddy, who was a naval aviator, died of complications from a service related injury. The man I was planning to marry was killed.
After a great deal of soul searching, I decided to resign and move away for a while. I would go to Europe I thought; Spain perhaps as it would remind me of California. But I had limited funds so I looked at Portugal instead. The exchange rate would allow me to last longer if I moved there.
A wonderful friend and travel agent, who was 20 years my senior and who had traveled the world, made the initial plans. She found an apartment/hotel, plus airfare for a phenomenal price. It was in Cascais, Portugal. She said this would be a good start to my adventure.
I knew no one in Cascais. I didn’t know Portuguese. It was before credit cards were used worldwide. It all seemed quite insane, but I went anyway. The area outside of Lisboa would be my home for about 5 months until I was called back home because my mother was dying.
The following pictures are from that time. They were taken with a Minolta film camera.
Portugal
1985 was a tumultuous year for me. The highs were magnificent and the lows incredibly painful. I was working as a Child Protective social worker that investigated child abuse calls along side of law enforcement officers.
Things were changing in the neighborhoods I worked. Violent gangs were appearing despite the intense efforts of the people to keep them out. Crack cocaine and PCP ruined entire families and destroyed the lives of a whole generation in San Diego, California. My job was getting more dangerous as well.
Overshadowing my work was my past life, as a Red Cross worker. I served in Vietnam in 1967. As many of you know, the military men and the civilians who served in the conflict were not welcomed back home. This attitude of the public began to slowly change as The Wall was built and respect for us started to build.
New York City decided to give us a welcome home ticker tape parade in 1985. We were all elated and converged on the city. Millions came out for the parade and the woman walked along side the men, after helicopters flew overhead to begin the parade. Ticker tape reigned down on us and during those moments the healing of a nation seemed complete.
My euphoria was short lived. My best war buddy, who was a naval aviator, died of complications from a service related injury. The man I was planning to marry was killed.
After a great deal of soul searching, I decided to resign and move away for a while. I would go to Europe I thought; Spain perhaps as it would remind me of California. But I had limited funds so I looked at Portugal instead. The exchange rate would allow me to last longer if I moved there.
A wonderful friend and travel agent, who was 20 years my senior and who had traveled the world, made the initial plans. She found an apartment/hotel, plus airfare for a phenomenal price. It was in Cascais, Portugal. She said this would be a good start to my adventure.
I knew no one in Cascais. I didn’t know Portuguese. It was before credit cards were used worldwide. It all seemed quite insane, but I went anyway. The area outside of Lisboa would be my home for about 5 months until I was called back home because my mother was dying.
The following pictures are from that time. They were taken with a Minolta film camera.