A little history. While in college, Tad introduced me to his cousin, Ruth. We'd sometimes travel together between school and northeast Ohio, he to visit Carol, me to see Ruth. (Tad had a little broken down Fiat. He once convinced a gas station attendant that the little tiny engine under the hood was just the starter motor for the 427 cubic inch V8 under the floor in the back. The entire car couldn't carry a 427. He fessed up before we drove away.) The summer between junior and senior years, we got jobs in one of the steel mills in the Youngstown area. (There are none left now, but Youngstown was a huge steel producer.) I stayed with Tad and Helen and spent a lot of time at Ruth's house. Her parents were Ann and John. John was combat infantry in Italy during WW II which might give some insight into why he didn't want to attract no little songbirds to his feeder. Ann was a little dynamo with a wicked, wicked acerbic sense of humor, which the two older daughters in particular inherited. I got on very well with the whole family. Tad had by now upgraded to a '57 Chevy with almost 70% of the body left. (I later bought it from him for $19.60. Shipping and handling brought the total to $75. He gave me a bill of sale that reflected all this.) Tad, Carol, Ruth and I would double date doing things like going to drive-ins showing five motorcycle movies, providing our own dialogue and critical commentary. Our brains would start to drip out our ears by the end of the second movie and Tad would toss the speaker out of the car and peel out.
After graduation, I went back to Youngstown and got a job in the mill while waiting to be drafted. I was told I'd probably go in July or August, but it was December before I was called up. Stayed with Helen again, dated Ruth. I knew Ruth would not be there when I got back, and she wasn't. (She started dating someone else, married him, had kids and a happy life. After many years, I met Pat, the love of my life, and we had one precious, extraordinary daughter. So all turned out well. But it was tough at the time.)
After Vietnam, I went back to Youngstown in July, got a job in the mill, stayed with Helen again. By this time, Helen is like mom number 2 to me. Tad was still in Vietnam. I left Youngstown for Chicago and school in December. I was, however, quite screwed up. I think everyone who was in Vietnam came back worse than when they went. I was considerably worse, though on the surface I seemed OK. But Helen knew. And when I finally couldn't stand it anymore and just had to get away, Helen loaned me $2000, a huge sum for her, and I was able to take my first motorcycle on a trip to Mexico and Central America. I started to recover after that, though it still took years.
Helen is almost 93 now, one of the reasons for this trip, and I will see her tomorrow.
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