By Rev. E.B.Holschuh I had my first date—if you can call it that—in the fall of 1972. My family lived in southwest Houston at the time, and I had become friends with a girl named Jana in my 5th grade class who agreed to meet me at our school’s fall festival. I was 10 years old when Jana died.On April 18, 1973, I was part of a safety patrol group that arrived at our crosswalk post just before the exit bell when this car came flying down the street, mowed down a stop sign (nearly hitting the kid near it),