The last time I saw Charlie, she was eagerly stepping up into a Greyhound Bus heading to New York City. We had been classmates for years but never friends, nodding acquaintances I would call it.

Charlie grew up outside a small town of 3,000, on a farm in middle America. The only opportunities for a young person once they were grown, were to watch the corn and potatoes grow, be a checker at the local 5 and 10 cent store or Kroger's. But, she wanted much, much more.

Charlie was intrigued by places and people she saw on the nightly news and read about in newspapers. She poured over magazines like 'Life' and 'New Yorker' and dreamed of having two closets full of designer clothes/shoes, going to fancy restaurants and the opera and hanging out with the 'party people'.

As she collected eggs every morning in the hen house, she would share her dreams with the hens, but they seemed content within their little world and had no advice for Charlie. Charlie was the odd-one-out on this farm and in this little country town.

Charlie's parents did not believe that she was serious. Living on a farm meant long hours and back-breaking work. They didn't have the energy to encourage her fantasies. Her friends laughed at her and focused on their prize cow, hoping to win a Blue Ribbon at the county fair.

But Charlie never gave up her dream. She saved her egg money and dollars gifted to her on birthdays and at Christmas. She kept polishing her school shoes rather than buying new ones and always looked to the future and her bus of dreams.

Finally, the day arrived. She had no real plan but was certain that her dreams would unfold day-by-day.

An unfamiliar observer noticed a young girl nervously clutching a satchel, bright eyed and eager to get on that bus and ride. The observer would have seen her sitting in a window seat straining to look ahead . . .no last glance at what she was leaving behind.

At the New York bus terminal pimps and drug dealers, searching the new arrivals for victims, would have seen a frightened little girl obviously out of her element, and swooped in to 'help' her. These predators would have devoured this naive little farm girl very quickly.

So, when I say that the last time I saw Charlie was getting on a Greyhound Bus, I mean that it was the last time anyone ever saw Charlie again.