I had applied for the Wellesley Internship Program in Washington, D.C., and though dismayed and unnerved by the assassinations, I was still committed to going to Washington. The nine-week summer program placed students in agencies and congressional offices for a firsthand look at “how government works.” I was assigned to intern at the House Republican Conference. Toward the end of my internship, Congressman Charls Goodell in New York, asked me and a few other interns to go with him to the Republican Convention in Miami to work on behalf of Governor Rockefeller's last-ditch effort to wrest his party's nomination away from Richard Nixon. I jumped at the chance and headed for Florida. When I entered Yale in the fall of 1969, I was one of twenty-seven women out of 235 students to matriculate. This seems like a paltry number now, but it was a break through at the time and meant that women would no longer be token students at Yale. While women's rights appeared to be gaining some traction as the1960s skittered to an end, everything else seemed out of kilter and uncertain.