Foreign travel was so unusual in 1960, that a reporter and photographer from the Los Angeles Times came to see me off. Only one airline flew to Japan, Pan American. I flew the 17,000 miles in the first passenger jet ever built, Boeing's 707. My grandma was convinced she would never see me again, going off to a heathen country (she did). John and I had filled out dozens of forms, in triplicate, since we needed the permission of our parents and the US government (John was in the Navy) and we were both under 21. We were married at the consular office in Yokohama and after swearing on the Bible that everything on those forms was true, he shook our hands and said "Well, you're married. Good Luck." And here we are still in love after all those years.