Inside the White Picket Fence: A Memoir

Growing up in the seventies, our family appeared perfect to the residents of our small community. We were the family others strove to emulate. My mother idolized Jacqueline Kennedy for her poise, beauty, and style. She was determined to have her Camelot on the North Dakota prairie. My father was an unwilling participant in her goal of perfection; the children were props in the setting she was determined to create. We were to look cute, behave, and stay out of her way. The need for perfectio...