Instead, with barely visible tracks in the snows of time, they each remember that day and wonder what happened, what really happened, or even if it ha...pened at all. Such are the mysteries of memory.What follows are my memories of that day. I’m sure Robert experienced it and remembers it differently. So, if you're interested, read ‘A Quiet Friday -- His Story’ if you want to see the day as he remembers it. Let me know with your votes and comments if you like hearing my perspective on things. I. A. now," she says hesitantly. "She's an optometrist, I think. Some kind of eye specialist. But when I wrote this song, she was just a little girl. And I still think of her as one whenever we perform it. Here it is: Kirsten!"Indeed, it is memories of her dearest and only fruit of her womb that fill her thoughts as she plays her own pianistic tribute to the restraint and beauty of Bill Evans who was such a great influence to Lynn in those early days in Peckham and, later, North London.Those were. More

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