I was sixteen years old and in the twelfth grade when I saw in the newspaper at school that Nelson Eddy was to appear in Birmingham. I yearned to go with all my heart but I lived in the red clay hills of Tuscaloosa County. What chance did I have? An amazing thing happened. The Frisco Railroad called my father to work third trick at Freight Yard Junction in Birmingham that night. He said he’d take me! I had forty-nine cents from typing for my teacher’s husband. Daddy gave me a penny to make enough for a gallery ticket. In my diary I wrote: “March 3, 1938, I spent most of the few minutes, after I found I could go, collecting my overcoat, our lunch, a scarf, and everything else I thought I’d need. All the way to Birmingham I was haunted by the dread there would be no gallery tickets left. The old Lizzie crawled along so slowly and every car that zoomed past I’d say to myself, They’re sho’ going.

It is 6 p.m. on October 28, 2016. What do you think the temperature outside should be at this time of day, during this time of the year? Pretty chilly, right? You should be able to throw on your favorite sweater, a beanie, and the oh-so-loved Ugg boots (for us women). There should be, perhaps, a crisp breeze in the air that makes your cheeks flushed and makes you check to ensure you have some extra hankies—if you regularly keep handkerchiefs with you—in your pocket or purse. This, however, is not the case. It is 83 degrees outside. I wore shorts and a dri-fit shirt today, and I blasted the A/C in my car on the way home from the mall at 5 p.m. The high for the next three days is 88/89 degrees.