But in the end, the truly last desperate decision was for both of us to go on the journey to Moscow. The U.S. had an exchange program then which sent 12 students to study in Russia for a year while a dozen Russian students came here. If a spouse had a fair command of the language they could come along and with three years of Russian behind me I passed the test. By June 1962, we were at Indiana University in Bloomington for a summer of preparation, along with all the other American students who were going. As always, my husband was buried in his work and I had much free time. I made a friend during this time who influenced the forking my path was taking. She was a few years younger than I, but very bright and talented, and an early renegade of the type I would soon become. At the end of summer, as we left the country flying East, she traveled West to the coast to a tiny utopian community near Monterey, California called Emerson College. From that moment on, it became a place in the world that I could set my course for when I broke for freedom. I was now 23.
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