SPOT GOES SKATIRG

The Little Girl
Who Disappeared

ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM EDITOR

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IAT hen I was a
teen ager my
father served
in the Air
Force, which meant we were
constantly moving from place
to place to place. It was awful.
I attended six different
schools from 6th-12th grade,
and I never felt comfortable at
any of them. I have lost touch
with everyone I knew then,
though I remember many of
their names. My best friend
was Roseanna Bilotta.
None of the places in which
I lived had large or especially
friendly Jewish communities.
This was true even in San An-
tonio, not exactly a small vil-
lage, where I attended 8th and
9th grades.
I remember we lived in a
corner house, and once it actu-
ally snowed in the winter. I col-
lected little plastic bottles of
snow and sent them to friends.
I kept one for myself, though
once removed from the freezer
it wasn't long before it melted.
The high school I attended
was academically impressive. I
had an English teacher I liked a
lot, an intelligent and soft-spo-
ken woman. My biology
teacher also was quite bright,
though I hated it when he
made us dissect frogs.
My least favorite was my
world-history teacher, Mrs.
Bollmeier, whom I was ap-
palled to learn had never even
heard of Sacco and Vanzetti (I
was consumed by the case at

the time), but was in love with
Richard Nixon.
One day Mrs. Bollmeier
wrote "Linda" on the black-
board, along with a phone
number. She told us this was
the name of a girl who was
supposed to be in our class, but

who was too sick to leave
home. She had a kind of can-
cer that bloated her stomach,
"so she almost looks pregnant,"
the teacher said. Despite her ill
health, Linda was keeping up
with school work and would
like very much to be in contact
with other students from the
class.
That evening I came home
and immediately called Linda. I
was eager to speak with her,

afraid the line would be busy
with all the other students do-
ing the same thing. But I got
through right away.
I introduced myself, and so
began a long and friendly con-
versation, the substance of
which I have since forgotten.
Linda and I called
each other for many
months. Once she
came to class and
we actually met.
She was a pretty
girl, quite tiny, with
bangs and dark hair
that fell to her
shoulders. Her
stomach was in-
deed bloated,
though I don't
know whether this
was from the cancer
or the treatment.
At the end of the
year my father was
transferred and we
left San Antonio for
Biloxi, Miss., where
I lost contact with
Linda. I did hear
from Roseanna from time to
time, and a few others. None
knew what happened to Linda.
I suspect, though, that she died
soon after I left. Her health had
deteriorated considerably those
last months I was in Texas.
I can't say it was always easy
for me to call Linda or that we
ever became the best of
friends. The more we spoke,
the more our conversations be-
came strained. She had so little

,-/

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