In the ’60s

Dear Diary:

Fifty-one years ago, I cut my high school classes and took the commuter train from Peekskill to Manhattan by myself for the first time.

I was wearing my favorite mini-dress and floppy hat, and I had a large tasseled leather bag and a sketchbook. I went to the Museum of Modern Art, where I sat and sketched Matisse’s sculpture of a woman named Jeannette . I felt uneasy and confident at the same time.

From there, I headed to Greenwich Village. I walked around Washington Square Park listening to the guitar players on the sidewalks. I was entranced by the flower children wading in the fountain. I wandered past head shops that smelled of patchouli and sandalwood. I bought a handmade silver ring with a narrow green stone for my index finger.

I moved away from New York not long after that, but my son lives in Brooklyn now. When I visited him last year, I asked him to take me to Washington Square Park. And I gave him the silver ring I bought back then.

— Kerry Workman