I do remember very clearly what it was like to live in the silent world. I call that the Deaf Years, up to seven and a half years old. For some reason, my memories of that time are very strong. I can even remember crawling on the floor of a jet plane when I was almost 3 years old, so small that I could straighten my arms while crawling that I could still see under the seats. I was facing the front and saw an elderly man and woman, sitting in the aisle seats across from each other, looking back at me. A beautiful airline stewardess was looking down upon me. Dark hair, fair skin without freckles, brown eyes, red lipstick, blue cap without a brim on it, and a dark blue uniform (I have looked up airline uniforms to ascertain which airline it might have been, flying from Corpus Christi to Philadelphia in Jan. 1969, but no luck). Dad sat in the window seat while Mom sat in the aisle seat on the right side of the aisle. Mom points at the window while holding me, and I see a snowy landscape that hasn't snowed for at least two days, as most of the branches of dark-leafed trees were clear of snow. I saw this as we were about 500 feet above, coming in for the landing.
