I lost a big battle this morning. The battle was whether to stay in bed and take it easy all day or tell you about Bill Klase and Jack Swift. About a wonderful moment we had together in the sun...and the worst beating I ever got in my life.
I lost the struggle and got up and am now typing this.
There is a memory in my mind I cherish and will cherish until they say, 'he's dead,' and pull the sheet over my head. It's not the beating. It's something that happened right before the beating.
It is this: It is the Summer of 1972 and I am with two of the most wonderful guys I have ever met. It is Florida, St. Petersburg, a beautiful, sunny day. I am at Bill Klase's house and Jack Swift is there. We are standing next to Jack's shiny new sports car, and Bill is smiling, and I am smiling, and Jack Swift is smiling. All is well and wonderful in the world for that one moment....
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