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Here is Samantha reading her own story aloud. The first time I put my hands on a computer was in kindergarten. Once a week we’d go up to the top floor where no other regular classes were held. Inside, there were dozens of giant computers (a bit later, shiny new Macintosh Classics) in three long rows. We learned BASIC at 5 years old. We played Oregon Trail and Gertrude’s Secrets. I loved my computer class, and not just because it was always ice cold in the room. That was the only place I got to use computers for years. My great-grandmother, not really a fan of anyone, had always liked me. Around this time, she pulled me aside and told me, “Stick with the computers.” She was convinced that was the way to make money. I smiled and nodded. I don’t think she’d ever seen one in person. My dad took me to a store in Marine Park when I was in 6th grade. I walked around the store in awe of what was available — and the prices. He bought a Packard Bell computer that had fewer megahertz than our home phone — but it was glorious. I begged…
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