A Moment in Childhood

“There is always one moment in childhood
when the door opens and lets the future in.” Graham Greene

I wonder if each of us can name that moment. I can.

Growing up in the mountains of West Virginia where one’s childhood world is not much bigger than the neighborhood friends on the hill, the grandparents’ home within an easy walk, the family’s church and the church that becomes family, the occasional trip into the county and maybe to the big city of Clarksburg, I lived in an insular and safe cocoon.

At the age of seven my world was blown wide open by a trip to the World’s Fair in New York City. For the first time, I encountered escalators in department stores, a hotel room on the 20th floor -higher than I’d ever been before - masses of people of varying colors and speaking languages that bombarded the ears. Heck, even the full-sounded accent of the local taxi driver sounded foreign to my mountain ears.

The 1963-64 World’s Fair focused on Fantasy and a vision of a Futuristic World. The Jetsons of my Saturday morning cartoons were suddenly real. I rode on a moving sidewalk, stood with my mouth wide open at laser shows, ate food that astronauts would eat - my first drink of Tang and crunchy so-called ice cream in a bag. Medical science was actually dreaming of a human heart transplant!

As I looked around at pavilions from most of the countries on the planet, my sister Annie grabbed my hand and led me to a seat on a small boat. We went into a tunnel and the wall speakers began to blast what would become a familiar tune to all: “It’s a small world...after all....” And I knew then the world, the whole wide world, could be mine.