When World War 2 ended we were living in Wethersfield, Connecticut.
It seemed the whole city of Hartford was out celebrating on Main Street, strangers were hugging one another, blowing whistles and singing, and I was in the midst of thousands of people.
A young man grabbed me and said “let’s go in here and celebrate with a drink,” I went with him in the restaurant but drank ginger ale. (I don’t know where your father was.) I think now “how did I dare go with a stranger?” After our drink, we walked out and he got lost in the crowd. I never saw him again.