It doesn't get any better than this. Autumn of 1960--we were about to elect a new president, a tall blue eyed politician from New England who spoke with a fascinating accent and had a sparkling sense of humor, married to this young queen of a woman who wore beautiful clothes and spoke with a soft voice. Then the World Series of 1960, according to most, certainly according to the people of Pittsburgh, the most dramatic, tie-breaking home run in the history of baseball, hit by Bill Mazeroski. Everybody I knew screamed for three days. And who was screaming? Newcasters on television--my grandfather who was an Orthodox Jew--policemen were honking the horns of their cars as they drove about Pittsburgh--my father, a tall, dark, serious man, couldn't stop talking about it--everybody was driving around honking their horns until a city ordinance was passed to regulate the honking of horns--even the city officials who passed the ordinance were screaming.
What a delight for a ten year old to see all the staid, serious people she knew, suddenly explode with joy and happiness!