(NOTE: This is a first-person account of Vertis' flight to join me in Benghazi, Libya.)

It was the fall of 1963, and I can remember it like it was yesterday because I was scared to death. I guess it's normal to be a little apprehensive on your first flight, but my first flight had some real scary parts.

My flight was from El Dorado, Arkansas, to Benghazi, Libya, via Dallas, New York City and Rome. The journey started when Mother and Daddy drove me out to Goodwin Field to catch a plane to Dallas, where I would change planes and fly to New York City, then on to Rome.

Well, I wasn't that upset with the short flight to Dallas, and even in the Dallas airport I didn't have any trouble. However, the big American jet was a little more than a 19-year-old Arkansas girl was comfortable with. But it went better than I thought it would, and when we landed in New York City, even getting my bags and a taxi to the city, I didn't have any problems.

I had a couple of days to spend with Richard's mother, who was in New York City on a ready-to-wear ladies' buying trip for a local department store. The........

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