The Tron effect
In 1982, I attended computer camp.
I know, this sounds like a "One time, at band camp. . ." story, but it's not. This was computer camp. It took place at the little-known Eastern Oregon State College, and it was the first year EOSC offered computer camp.
Growing up in Thorne Bay, Alaska, I realized I was odd. In sixth grade, the school district sent out an Apple ][. While others played Star Wars or Space Invaders, I studied Applesoft Basic. While others learned how to master Aztec, I delved into the mysteries of the Sweet16 assembler. When my mom told me her college was offering a whole month of computer studies for high school geeks like me, I couldn't wait.
That summer, I worked for my mom's boyfriend. He worked construction, and because he was about sixty years old, it felt strange calling him my mom's boyfriend, but that's what he was. That summer, I helped drywall, roof, and plumb new houses. About midsummer, I got my payday, and I applied and paid for computer camp.
That summer, I learned I was not alone.
The first day, we learned none of us were alone.