In return, sometimes the man in the computer room would hand her a stack of large green and white striped paper that was folded and had perforations.
(The green paper gave more Wizard of Oz vibes in my child perspective.)
It all felt like a somewhat magical or sacred space and transaction.
5/
After getting off the elevator, she would walk down a long hallway to a half-open (to retain the cold) Dutch door at the end and hand over the piles to the one man in the computer room.
(The trip always reminded me of going to see the Wizard in Wizard of Oz.)
The whole floor kind of vibrated.
4/
Iβm followed by a lot of tech people, so hereβs a little story about what tech history has looked liked in my lifetime:
My late mother began her programming career at an oil company in Houston writing binary code on punch cards. Occasionally, she had to bring me to work, and this is what I saw.
1/