Dear Ann Landers,
'm writing about the girl who de-scribed her boyfriend as a "first-class gentleman" because he offered to pay for her abortion (which she later discovered she didn't need). This letter will probably sound like a Grade B movie or a rotten made-up story, but unfortunately it's true- every word. My mother died when I was sixteen, and I started sleeping with an older fellow. I told myself I was doing it because I missed my mother. I know now I did it because I was too dumb and too weak to say No. When I became preg-nant, my boyfriend took me to an abortionist who botched the job and I almost died. Now I will never be able to have chil-dren. My "great lover" dropped me, and I took up with an-other bum who dragged me down into the gutter where I stayed for three miserable years. One day I woke up sick to death of myself and decided to get a respectable job. I am now 90 twenty-nine years old, and I look forty-five. I avoid my school friends because I have made such a mess of my life I don't know what to say when we meet. I am tortured by the past and terrified of the future. I wrecked my life because of a foolish mistake. If just one girl learns something from this letter, perhaps my messed-up life will have served some pur-pose. Please print it.-My Name Is Mud

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