Today I returned to the mountains 90 minutes from Las Terrenas looking for the wonderful Martinez family who hosted me in 1988. I only had their names and the name of the nearest town. I drove up into the mountains to the general area they had lived, as I remembered it, and stopped at the first store. I asked the people there, in Spanish, “Do you know Pedro and Victoria Martinez. They had nine girls.” After two or three minutes, they told me to go talk to a man at a nearby store. I paid someone to take me to that store, the owner of which turned out to be married to one of the Martinez girls. I then paid someone to take me to their house, which was only 200 yards down the road. Victoria remembered me and gave me an extremely warm welcome. When her husband arrived, the good times continued. Victoria then called one of her daughters, Susanah, who soon joined us and the conversation continued. When I told Susanah I was writing my autobiography, she immediately replied, “That’s great. That’s how we learn to do better with our lives — by reading about other people’s lives.” I told them that I had really appreciated their hospitality in 1988 and have wanted to return ever since. After I left, glowing from the marvelous visit and the beautiful spirit of the Martinez family, I felt gratified that my experience in 1988 and my memory of that experience was not a mirage. They really are a wonderful family. One memory was wrong, however. They only had seven daughters, not nine.