My daughter Juliana turned eleven recently. On the way home from a fun day of manicures, lunch at Gibbons (her request), and two scoops of Gold Medal Ribbon at Baskin-Robbins, she asked me, “Mama, tell me about your eleventh birthday!”
My mind took me back to November 1987. I was in sixth grade at the old Johnson Elementary in Mansfield.
For my eleventh birthday, I had a bonfire at my house in the country, just outside of Mansfield where my parents still live. We roasted hot dogs, ate homemade chocolate cake with white icing, and went on a hayride.
But the main thing I recall was how excited I was that one of my best friends, Dustin DeVore, was coming to my party. Dustin sat behind me in class, since our names were Davidson and DeVore. I felt so lucky.