This is a telling of my life experiences. Except in essentials, it is not intended to be about parents, siblings, loves, wives, and children. It is a review of my life experiences, which have been much varied but of little interest to anyone but myself. At age seventy-fi ve, my memory is fading in a strangely uneven manner. Writing this narrative has stimulated my recollections, bringing back events and reconnecting dots in places that had become hazy. Its really mostly for myself. The narrative may tend to weary my readers, few as they may be, in places where it becomes extended, recalling to a degree the technology and the problems that I faced in those times. I say it again: its really mostly for myself. These are the things that I remember.