This photo is from a newspaper clipping from the early 1950s.

My father ran the local Imperial Gasoline Station on Highway 54. We lived in a small house (a duplex) just behind the station.

This is the same location where I locked Mrs. Keith in her shed by moving a large rock in front of the shed’s door. I still remember my father walking across the yard from the station.

Did I get a lickin’? Do bears use the toilet in the woods?

Dad and Pat came to Hawaii on a late honeymoon 25 years ago.

The life preserver was part of the dinner cruise, not something I suggested to help their marriage.

25 years later I have a little more hair than dad had back then; perhaps a little less gray. I haven’t been married quite as long and haven’t used my life preserver. Yet.

The islands of Hawaii are colorful. It doens’t take much of a drive to find a sight worth a photograph.

For some reason, I saw more old Buicks and Pontiacs on the Big Island than I’ve seen since I was a child in Louisiana. For some reason, Louisiana had a Buick dealership and a Pontiac dealdership, many old folks, and many old Buicks, and Pontiacs.

There’s a certain beauty to being 17. An innocence that never again appears is so evident on prom night.

Well, it was nearly 40 years ago.

My prom date was Carol Davidson. We dated for a couple of years in high school, then later as more mature adults. Carol was easily the purest, most pleasant woman I’ve ever known. The greatest kisser, too.

I wish her well. I always have.

The photo was taken by her mother at their home on Boyd Drive.