HUNTER VALLEY, DECEMBER '67.
His wife, born on the sofa bed of an elaborate tract house, spoke fondly of her earliest memories...cold wind lifting sparkling sheets of dry snow spreading them across the plowed streets of Peoria (tractor, pulley factory).
"History," she says, "was my first class in the morning. And Dad, he worked in an enormous tin can where he said he could hear marching. Armies. Men. Machines. Empty buses." She always smiled, "We carpooled before it was fashionable."
and Dr. Parole