Storm King

I fondly remember my summer on the Olympic Peninsula with my roommates Bob and Blair and other friends that I have lost track of now. It was 1962 between the happy days of the 50s and the turmoil of the 60s. The Olympic Peninsula was isolated geographically from the rest of the world. There was no television that I knew of and we did not have a radio. Our news came from conversation and letters from home. This is my story of happy days on the Olympic Peninsula with other college students during the summer of 1962. I am looking back to those happy days from the twenty-first century where technology has taken us past all of the predictions from 1962 of the future and we know now, how our hopes and dreams have turned out. I wondered why we were happy then and the world seems so angry now. I looked for the formulas for happiness in my memories. At first I remembered incidents that were fun or adventures. I thought of these as my stories. I typed them on my computer and organized them by chronological time and subject.Patterns emerged that provided to me insight on prejudices, cultural characteristics, friends, boys and girls, happiness, love, and that a person will choose the path that fulfills his or her vision. I collected these vignettes into one story and named it Storm King because much of the story takes place near Storm King Mountain. This story is written much in the style of American Graffiti with vignettes that form a coherent story. It is interesting on several levels. It describes the way things were in 1962 and it is full of fun.