The Wind Blew Innocent: A Memoir by Donna Arp Weitzman

Claustrophobia. I didnt know the meaning of the word until I moved to Dallas. The city’s concrete skyscrapers stifle most breezes and often divert the wind, my constant companion in West Texas where I grew up. Even with decades of city living behind me, most of my recollections involve the wind shaping the twists and turns in my complex and messy maturation from childhood to adulthood. I miss having so much air to breathe and nothing between a little girl and the innocence of life. The wind is inextricably part of my family tree. Like a crazy, unpredictable cousin, it’s always welcome but as my life reveals—it’s sometimes dreaded.