Invasion

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a long time ago, in early February 1964. I was seven years old.

I was at my grandparent’s ranch in Sonoma, CA, and we must have been there for the weekend. We lived in nearby Novato, only about a half-hour away. It was early morning, as was usual, when everyone there woke up. The wood stove was lighted, coffee put on, and the breakfast made and eaten.

I was ready to go outside in the cool of the morning, and I spotted the morning paper. I read the headline, and I was shocked. I was horrified. I ran outside to walk around while I thought about what was to happen in the coming days. Would insecticide work? Will we be able to raise food that wasn’t going to be eaten by bugs. Is everyone going to starve?

My brother came outside shortly after me, and we were trying to decide what we would do that day. Finally, I confessed to him I was afraid.

“Afraid of what?”

“The insects!”

My brother was much older and wiser than I. He was 10. I knew he would know what to do. After all, he protected me all my life so far.

“I saw it in the newspaper!”

He cocked his head, kind of like a dog. I motioned to him to come with me. We went back into the ranch kitchen, and I pointed to the newspaper that clearly showed the headline, “Beatles Invade America.”

(true story)