Abstract
My earliest memory of my father's work was in 1962, when I was nine. We were living in Caracas, Venezuela, where he was the director of a project to plan a new city on the model of Brasilia. He and I were on the “teleferico”-a cable car that went up into the beautiful mountains surrounding Caracas. As we looked down, I noticed an apartment building shaped like an “H.” Why? I wanted to know.