Ted and I.
It was a summer morning. There was a knock on the front door of our rented house on Vernon Street in Pasadena.
Ted and I headed down to Colorado and Fair Oaks, hopped on the trolley and headed East on Colorado to Hill Street and Colorado across from Pasadena Junior College to the Fortner and Loud Ford Dealership.
Were we looking for a hotrod or roadster? No, a family car. My father to his last on Earth never drove a car. He delivered for Meiji laundry to the rich homes on Orange Grove by horse and buggy.
Ted got into our purchased auto. Drove it into our garage.
The next morning, a knock on our front door. It was Ted. Out the auto came out of the garage. I hopped in and down to the Rose Bowl we went. Around and around we went. He must have done a good job, for I was able to get a license.
We had some good times together until evacuation when he went to Salt Lake and the rest of us to Gila.
We got together again. He was like a brother since I was the only child.
I’ll sure miss him.
