Alicia Abbott

Now, in the halls of American academia, anti-war students were shutting down campuses from UC Berkeley to Columbia.

My mother was intrigued by my father's open approach to sexuality.

She never got hung up on his boy crushes like his other girlfriends had.

She was only jealous of his relationships with women and, according to dad, even liked the guys he was attracted to.

On weekends, they went to the Cove and to the other gay and mixed bars that dotted the outskirts of downtown Atlanta.

There, my mother picked out the young men my father could never attract on his own, men who'd never consider a gay encounter, but who'd be up for a drunken three-way.

In those early years of the sexual revolution, it was hip for young people to try new combinations.

Sometimes, my mom would dress in men's clothing when they went out.

Dad said she made a cute boy.

Other weekends, my parents hosted dinner parties, entertaining the anti-war and grad student friends with spaghetti, cheap red wine, and charades.

Dad wrote about feeling satisfied at the close of these evenings, seeing himself and my mom as leaders of a salon of intellectually engaged students.

As they cleaned up after one such party, my mom suggested they marry.

Landlords won't hassle us so much, she reasoned.

We'll be able to stock the kitchen and house with wedding presents.

My parents will give us more money.

Other than that, our life won't really change.

Yes.

My parents were married in February 1969, and I was born in December 1970.

Well, I think I was aware that I was in an accident, but I wasn't aware that my mother had told my father that she had stopped using birth control and that she hadn't and had me.

So that came as a surprise.