5 March 1998
So, I was living with my brother Dennis in California after I graduated from college. He had a one-bedroom apartment
near Sacramento and while he went to work every day I sat around watching bad TV and eating Hershey's Fudge Ice
Cream Topping from the can.
Sometimes we'd go on little trips, like to San Francisco. I liked standing on the pier looking out over the Bay. The first time we went, I was gazing out into the distance when I spied the big island some distance from the shore.
Dennis had to tell me it was Alcatraz.
Having been an avid viewer of HBO during summers in grade school, I've seen "Escape From Alcatraz" many times and was giddy with excitement. I popped a quarter into one of the telescopic viewers and turned it towards the historic isle.
Streams of people were climbing up and down the hills. Some appeared to be sitting and enjoying the view.
"Dennis!" I breathed, "The prisoners are out!"
"Amy! IT'S BEEN CLOSED SINCE 1969. THOSE ARE TOURISTS."