Back in 1979, being in the Miss Richfield pageant hadn't even yet crossed my mind. I was working afternoons at Schuller shoes selling hard to fit sizes for those unfortunate Richfield gentlemen who needed canoes or aircraft carriers instead of shoes. Those were the days - racing over to K-mart before Shelly shut down the Icee machine and finished her shift. Giggling in the parking lot with blue tongues and lips waiting to catch a glimpse of Jeremy from sporting goods.

Who'd have thought that barely two years later, this would be me, a mature girl bursting with the flower and promise of womanhood. Surely not my mother, to hear her talk when I told her I planned to enter the contest the previous spring...