DJ grew up on the stoops of small-town New York City, where the skyscrapers were gleaming monoliths across the silvery, rippling river, and the next door neighbor was as close as the next mortared brick.
It was a tumultuous time (Vietnam and civil rights marches)and it was a communal time (Woodstock and love-ins).
It was an era when opportunity opened wide the door to explore one's own dreams; to let individuality spring forth from the stagnant and repetitive time-clock stamped order of life dragged out of the previous decades.
It was a time for women to look beyond the kitchen; to breathe life into dreams; to show their strength as competitors in the world outside the home. To reach and touch and own the stars...
DJ's Mom instilled these possibilites, nurtured the roots of a young girl's dream of writing the next great book or the next Oscar-winning screenplay.
A young girl, no longer; but the dream is a goal at hand, and the light at the end of the tunnel is NOT the train...