As we stood there, very excited to have busted in without tickets, Neil Young was joking about “Sugar Mountain,” a song that he told us had too many verses.
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Passed Out in the Library

The last thing I remember was locking the door of the high school library at the end of the day.  And then inexplicably I found myself seated at my desk, confused,  and with an aching head.

I had no memory of walking back to my office and sitting down at my desk before I passed out,  a phenomenon later explained to me as post-traumatic amnesia.

Realizing I was alone in the library and not well,  I lifted the phone on my desk and called for help.  Someone came and escorted me,  still dazed,  to the principal’s office.   David,  my principal,  and a good friend,  called my husband.  (See Magazines for the Principal – for David F  and Mr October)

”Danny,  what do you think of those Yankees?”,  I remember hearing David ask Danny on the phone.   And then after a little more sports talk –  the two of them big fans – I heard David tell Danny not to be alarmed but I had fainted in the library and shouldn’t drive myself home.  “In fact I think you should take her to the hospital.”  he said.

Danny came to get me and we drove to the local Bronx ER where I underwent a few tests as well as an MRI to rule out stroke and other serious conditions.

It happened MRIs were done in another building  and thus I was wheeled out of the hospital on a gurney to that other location a few yards away.  It was drizzling and so I was covered with a sheet head to toe.  When Danny saw that he thought I was dead,  and until I was able to assure him otherwise,  he was rather upset!

After awaiting the test results and worrying a bit,  I was diagnosed with low blood sugar and advised not to go too long without eating,  nor to skimp on meals.

They kept me overnight for observation,  and discharged me the next day.   Then, to avoid another low blood sugar fainting episode,  we went to City Island for a fabulous seafood dinner!

– Dana Susan Lehrman

"Do you always share such personal details with strange men in coffee shops?"
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How can a library chart your career path as early as childhood? No one was more surprised than me.
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The library was on the basement floor of that old 1934 two-story dark brick building in a small windowless room, maybe 12 by 15 feet.  Its walls were lined with bookshelves, neatly organized into the Dewey decimal system
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Technically, we're not allowed to have the fresh vegetables, but most guards tend to look the other way.
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I was raised in Michigan during the era when Walter Reuther advocated for workers’ rights, universal health care, public education, and affordable housing and the UAW was seen as a sacred, progressive union in my home. He and George Meany cofounded the AFL-CIO in 1955. Unions brought prosperity to middle class families, many of whom were part of the auto industry. So, strikes were an inevitable but good thing, as they brought equity and prosperity to people living in my neck of the woods. Crossing a picket line was unforgivable and unthinkable, until it affected my ability to survive.

In 1967, I started my first post-college job teaching English at Niles East High School in Skokie, Illinois. As a late summer hire, I had no time to get grounded in school politics. I’m pretty sure I automatically joined the teachers’ union because it was a reflex to do so, given my upbringing. My memory is hazy about this, but at some point that year, negotiations between the school board and the teachers’ union stalled, and the teachers authorized a strike. I don’t even remember what all of the issues were. I assume higher pay was one of them, as I was earning $6,000/year.

But here’s the thing. My meager salary as a teacher was also putting my husband through medical school. We had no savings and were living paycheck to paycheck. I was in a panic, trapped between my reverence for unions and workers’ rights and the need to receive my full salary to survive. Would I cross a picket line for that paycheck? As a new teacher, I knew that action would make me a pariah. Thankfully, the school board settled at the last minute averting the strike. Thus, I was never forced to cross a picket line to survive financially.

I remain pro-union politically, and it is easy for me to sympathize with Hollywood writers, actors, Starbucks baristas, and auto workers. But other strikes are a bit more painful to support. Medical personnel and teachers are ones that come to mind. Teachers’ strikes are always hard because children are the ones most harmed. Still, my heart is always with the teachers, especially the ones who forego their salaries for extended periods of time. Having been there once, I don’t know how I would have survived. On the other hand, as a parent and grandparent, I have felt the pain and disruption these strikes bring to children and working parents.

In retrospect, I would like to think I would not have crossed that picket line in 1967. It still shakes me to this day that I’m not 100% sure.