Mike Crapo: The First Boy I Kissed

Mike doesn't remember it, I'm sure.  He was twelve years old.  I was eight.  I was hopelessly infatuated with him--as any eight year old girl would have been.  He was adorable. Picture this: dark hair styled like Paul McCartney's; grey-green eyes; tall and still verging the growth spurt that would make him a lean specimen of manhood any artist could use as a model for Peter the Apostle.He was my uncle George's best friend.  I was certainly perceived as a bratty kid--and a redhead at that, wit … [Read more...]


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