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One day, years ago, I was driving home to the little ranch we had purchased in the mountains of northern California. An old ranch had been subdivided into 20 acre parcels of lovely, rustic land. As I passed the parcel belonging to a wildlife ranger and his family I noticed a tiny trailer parked in one corner near the road. The fence had been cut and was being turned into a gate, presumably to give access to the little trailer. A strong looking young man with long hair tied in a pony tail was working on this project; a little boy of not more than three was standing beside him and pretending to help.

I stopped and greeted the young fellow, introducing myself to him. He introduced himself as Art, and this, he said putting his arm around the little fellow, is Norrie. Norrie was too shy to say hello, he just clung to the leg of his father’s jeans and stared at me, wide-eyed. Norrie’s mother, an RN, was at work.

Over the next few years I got to know this little family well. Art and Connie were hippies. Their language and diction betrayed that they came from educated families, but they had abandoned middle class life to live in the ashram of an Indian teacher in San Diego. When they found out that Norrie was on the way they left the ashram and set out to make a life on the land for their family. Connie worked full time at the local hospital and Art stayed home with Norrie. In spite of their meager circumstances, Norrie was never left alone, and both of the parents talked to him and played with him constantly. When he was three and a half, they bought him an abacus. Norrie was fascinated with it, and he played for hours with the colored sliding beads. In short order he was tapping at his mother’s leg to get her attention. Look what I can do with this, Mommie, he said – and he proceeded to show her how to add, multiply and divide with the abacus. In another year, they had taught him to read, and he constantly checked the dictionary for new words.

Norrie’s parents were determined to home school him in their little trailer, but very soon he decided he wanted to go to the local public school. In spite of his counterculture background, he felt at home at school. When he was not at school he had the constant attention and companionship of his parents. Eventually Art got a job at the local health food market to supplement the family income.

Recently I stopped by that store and saw that Art was still working there. What a pleasure that was to see my old friend there! Of course, the first thing I asked about was Norrie. Norrie had been given a full scholarship to Princeton University, he told me. He was now finishing his senior year and would soon start graduate work on a doctorate in physics.