The First Moment of...

The Sixties
By: Joseph Duffy
I was sure when The Fifties would come to an end. They would end on December 31, 1959, at the stroke of midnight. I was
a young boy of eleven at that moment, and my twin brother Jim and I were helping my Mom baby-sit for my sister Betty,
who lived across tiny Agate Street from us. It was a big deal, as the decade would be changing, something I had never
experienced, as I was too young the last time this happened. I couldn’t wait to see what it felt like; the end of The Fifties!
Midnight came, and Jim and I ran up and down Agate Street banging pots and pans together to celebrate the new decade. I
awoke the next morning, looked out my window, and...nothing was changed. I was a bit surprised. Life just went on as if
nothing had happened. I began to suspect that “decades” were not real; they were an invention, and that one was just like
every other. Is that all there is to a decade? Banging Pots and Pans?
So, even though it was now 1960, The Fifties just...continued. I began High School a couple of years later, and we had a
new President, John F. Kennedy, an Irish Catholic like me, whom I had (sort of) met when he was campaigning for
President. Freshman year at Northeast Catholic High went pretty smooth for me, and, for Sophomore year, 1963, I was
assigned to the top section. I had Geometry, Latin II, Spanish II, Biology, World History, Religion, English Composition, and
Gym, three days a week. I also had the 11:30 lunch, which was considered the best lunch.
After lunch came Religion class, with Father Godley (his real name). The trick in Father Godley’s class was to stay awake,
especially after lunch. That went until 1:00, and then Spanish II, with Father Cleary. 1:45 was English Comp, with Mr.
Thaddeus Pianka. That class was held in Room 114, on the corner of the first floor.
I remember a particularly warm Friday, late that Fall. It was 66 degrees and sunny; unseasonably warm for so late in
November. The windows in our classroom were open, and we were doing a quiz, or deskwork, for Mr. Pianka. It was very
quiet. I sat in the first desk, second row. Then there was a loud voice, coming from outside our window.
“Hey, that’s my buddy Mike Dugan out there”, I remember thinking. He was yelling to another student, who must have been
standing a hundred yards away.
“Somebody just shot Kennedy.”
“What?”, said the other kid.
“I said, somebody... just... shot... Kennedy.”
There was a muffled response from the other kid.
Then Mike said “They don’t know yet.”
I thought “Wow. What if somebody HAD just shot Kennedy?” I didn’t believe it. It just didn’t seem like a possibility. Why
would Mike say such a thing?
A few moments later our Principal, Father Corcoran, announced over the loudspeaker, “May I have your attention, please?
The President has just been shot in Dallas, Texas, while riding in a motorcade. His condition is not yet known, but reports
are that it may be very serious.” We didn’t know what to think about this. It was a physical blow.
And nothing was ever the same, from that moment. Something had ended. We were somewhere completely new and
foreign to us. It took only... a moment. We were, briefly, suspended, in mid-air, between decades; silent, breathless, and
peering down into the unknown; but only for a moment.
And, in that moment, the nation, and the world, leapt the abyss between the decades. It was the very last moment of The
Fifties. The beginning of “The Sixties”.. was not about banging pots and pans together, after all.
MEMOIR

- Is an aspect of your life, not your entire life

- Is not about you, but about how that aspect of your life transformed you (for good or bad)
- Is based on recalled events that may not be accurate because memory is imperfect
- Relies more on creative expression than accuracy of information
- Is written according to an argument or central theme from which you learned something new about life or living
- Invites the readers to reflect with you as you reveal the significance of facts or recalled events in your life
- Engages the readers’ attention with good descriptive details, a plot that shifts from one scene to the next, and a
conversational tone that directly speaks to the readers
- Is done upon proving your argument or central theme

The memoir is a small moment about your life made bigger by a point you want to make.

Reading and Critiquing

Write a 300-word critique of this memoir based on the following elements:

- The plot in one or two sentences

- The argument or central theme in two sentences
- Your emotional reactions while reading
- The memoir’s strengths or most effective techniques
- The memoir’s least effective techniques
- Writer’s technique that you’d probably employ
- Writer’s use of facts or evidence in support of theme /argument
- Language and tone used and its appropriateness to the genre of memoir, intended audience
- Questions or confusions formed in your mind while reading
- Suggestions for improvement

Author: Lee Hinkle

Genre: Memoir

The Sample:

In college, I was a cheap date. If a guy asked me what I’d like to do, I’d often suggest a drive out to the end of Imperial
Boulevard, which runs parallel to the south side of Los Angeles International Airport to watch airplanes take off and land. If
he didn’t know me very well, the guy inevitably interpreted my response as a come-on and would happily, eagerly agree to
the excursion. However, by the third date, he would likely sigh and say something like “Not again.” If our relationship made it
as far as a fourth date he knew better than to ask.

Why do I feel this weird cosmic link to airplanes? I wish I knew. It has been there inside me for as long as I can remember.
I’m just fascinated by those sleek, metal birds that soar high above all that is mundane and earthbound. Oddly enough, my
fascination and passion for them have never translated to wanting to actually pilot one. Mostly, I just want to look at them,
experience their kingly presence, delight in their amazing ability to whisk me away to anywhere else, watch and listen to
their splendid roar as they climb into the sky, and breathe in the heavenly scent of jet fuel left trailing in their wake.

My love for airplanes is best illustrated by my choice of apartments when I went to work for Continental Airlines at in Los
Angeles back in 1977. I rented an efficiency apartment at the end of Imperial Avenue in El Segundo, CA, which was located
directly across the street from one of the runways at LAX. My new address blessed me daily with the opportunity to hear the
roar of jets taking-off and landing practically in my own front yard. It was music to my ears, though visitors to my apartment
often were jarred by what they described as noise. Imperial Boulevard parallels the south side of Los Angeles International
Airport (LAX). It ends at Pershing Drive, which runs parallel to the Pacific Ocean.

***

Editorial Review

Every life is a story, and every person’s story is worth telling. The trick is in telling it properly, so that it has maximum impact.

There are as many reasons for writing a memoir as there are people. Memoirs can be fancy or fussy, complex or simple, full
of whimsy or gravitas. They can be broad and expansive, covering a long life, or short and focused. They can explore one
season in your life, one experience, one angle, or they may try to tie up the myriad of experiences that define you as a
person into an overarching whole. A memoir is an invitation to the world to share in your life’s journey, whether it’s for the
space of a year in Provence, the span of a wild childhood, the length of a war, or the sum of an entire life with the marrow
fully extracted.

You can write at the start of your journey, the middle, or the end, from the perspective of childhood or the wisdom of age.
And, much like a novel, a memoir should have narrative resonance—a compelling story structure that feels very much like a
plot (at least for a commercially viable memoir). Still, so much choice can leave you feeling indecisive and unsure of where
to start.

What I Like

The narrative is a little quirky and off-kilter. I’m left with the impression that the person I’m accompanying on this journey has
a sense of humor—always a positive thing in a traveling companion.

The first line really is great, setting up a fun and interesting premise. It would be a good hook if you are sure that’s what your
story is about. Although it has potential, you want to be sure it is the right one for the story you want to tell.  Below are some
thoughts on creating a strong opening for your story.

Are You Starting in the Right Place?

Every beginning of a story has an inherent promise in it. The words, the events you choose to talk about in the opening
paragraph and first few pages are an indication to the reader that those are important and hold weight. Therefore, if you
start your story with a puzzle, an enigma (why this “weird cosmic link” to planes?) you must be prepared to follow through
and explain it over the course of the story, or at least by the resolution. Right off, as a reader I’m already a little doubtful that
I will be satisfied, since I’ve already been informed that the storyteller doesn’t know why she feels such a magnetic pull to
these magnificent carriages of the sky. That’s not necessarily the strongest starting position. How you position the events,
what weight you give them, what interpretation, what order you relate them in, will all impact the effectiveness of your tale.

Although a memoir is nonfiction, it can benefit from many of the same guidelines that inform fiction writing. So your opening,
your hook, your first five pages, all these are prime real estate. Every word counts, and you want to maximize their impact.
Just as you want to start with a story-worthy problem in fiction, in a memoir, a great place to start is a life-changing event.

What is your inciting incident? The inciting incident in fiction is the event that brings the main character to a realization of the
main problem that is going to propel the plot forward. In a memoir, a life-changing event can fill this role.

Take, for example, the first three paragraphs of The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. The author relates how she is in a
cab on the way to a party, and looking out the window she spots her homeless mother going through the Dumpster, and the
author is panicked at the thought of her mother recognizing her and greeting her, and of other people seeing them together.
This would be gripping if it were fiction. Knowing that it’s real makes it even more intense.
What is your beginning doing to pull people into the story? People who love planes may be intrigued (or they may be
confused as to why someone who is so fascinated with planes has no desire to fly one). People whose interests lie
elsewhere may not be as hooked. And what is the problem or life-changing event? Of course, there’s always the possibility
that your story is not really about how your fascination for planes has shaped and molded your life. But in that case, a
different opening anecdote may be a stronger pick.

The other possibility is that this is an examination of your relationship experiences. That’s what your first sentence and
paragraph focus on: your dating patterns and attitudes. But that theory runs into a conflict when the love of planes is
brought on stage. The reader may wonder: is your love of planes interfering with your love life? If that’s your intended
message, all’s well. If not, you may want to reimagine your beginning.

What belongs on the first page? I mentioned earlier that your first page is prime real estate. You don’t want to waste a
millimeter of space. But your first three paragraphs mention Imperial Boulevard and its location three times with slight
variations. Unless this location is where a life-shattering event is going to occur, once is enough (and even in that case,
once is enough). There is also no need to put that information into a footnote, especially since it’s been adequately
explained within the body of the text. Be sure that you don’t get sidetracked by tangents in this vital opening section.

Take a Page from Someone Else’s Story

The Glass Castle traces Jeannette’s journey through childhood with parents who are little better than children themselves.
In the face of her father’s gambling and alcoholism and her mother’s erratic behavior, Jeannette and her siblings face
poverty, danger, and instability, moving precipitously from one town to another. Eventually, the Walls children must forge
their own lives. Jeannette writes honestly but without self-pity or a feeling of victimization. Surprisingly, there is love and
affection and charming memories mixed into the harsh realities of her life, such as the night her father takes the children
outside one at a time and lets them pick out a star for their Christmas gift. The structure that Jeannette uses for her story
starts with a moment of painful clarity and then loops the readers back to the beginning of her childhood, so that they can
experience it chronologically along with the author. The resolution comes as she reminisces about her life after her father’s
death.

Like a snowflake, no two life experiences are the same (not even within the same family). But that doesn’t mean you can’t
borrow structure from other memoirs to enhance your own story, just as multiple poets can use the same structure (say a
sonnet) to achieve vastly different results.

Last Thoughts

In sum, be sure you can answer the following questions: What message do you want to convey to your audience? What life-
changing event best propels your story forward? At what point does your journey reach a resolution? (This will be the logical
end point of your story.) This will not only help launch your story, it will keep your narrative focused and bring it to a
satisfactory conclusion. It takes courage and passion and integrity to bare your soul and reveal a part of your innermost self
to the world, but it can be a deeply rewarding and uplifting experience.

Best of luck on your journey and revisions!

Angela Eschler and Heidi Brockbank