Chapter 3 Santa Clara Valley Before Silicon A Poor Girl Faces the World
On the morning of June 8, 1950, I met the world in a ramshackle farmhouse surrounded by a pear orchard. As I gasped for air, then screamed to announce the importance of my arrival, the Mexican midwife carried me outside and bathed me in cool water from a hand pump. Properly bathed and blessed in her Mayan dialect, she carried me back to be soothed with the milk of my mother's breasts. My father selected an auspicious spot and buried my placenta and umbilical cord.The "ranch", as orchards...
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