It was a Thursday. The sun broke the horizon at 5:03 am. The sky was clear and bright by seven. The westerly wind outside the Marlborough Hospital was blowing at a calm 8 miles per hour. It was a breeze that could go unnoticed. I would be in the world by 7:28 am.
The doctor in charge was 38-year-old Bahy N. Louca, an Arab immigrant having graduated from Alexandria University, Egypt, twelve years before he was to bring me into this world. He would pass away four days before my 27th birthday. Allah Yarhamak Dr. Louca.
By noon the temperature would reach high 70s. People would be talking about how the Red Sox lost the night before to the Indians 5-7. In the evening the Jewish in town would sit down to eat matzah to celebrate the second Seder of Passover, a recognition of the flight of the Hebrews from Egypt.
Jimmy Carter was running around the country trying to convince voters he should be the next president over incumbent Gerald Ford, who was the first to enter such a position after the resignation of the nortorious Nixon. By November Carter succeeded. Trust of government was thin. Vietnam just ended poorly and the economy had hit the lowest point since the Great Depression.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest took five Oscars including Best Film and Best Actor, Jack Nicholson.
The cover story in Newsweek reads “How Safe is Nuclear Energy?” A Chrysler advertisement claims, “Chrysler Sales Have Nearly Doubled. Proof That America Still Cares About Excellence.”
Marlboro Man was selling cigarettes from Marlboro Country and you could smoke on planes and in public buildings.
The People’s Republic of China was forming, Lebanon was breaking out into a civil war, and rumors of Israel aquiring nuclear weapons were spreading.
What was life like the day I was born? This was the question I contemplated. If anyone knows anything more about what it felt like to be alive on April 15, 1976 please share. I really can’t remember.