Tanya was warm, had a great smile, laughed easily, she was unpretentious–she drove what had been her father’s 5 year old Dodge pick up truck– and she left little notes under the windshield wiper of my car when it was parked on campus at The Daily Texan office. Apparently she liked me. And she was really pretty. I had been asked a few times that semester, “Frink, whooo was your date last night?” She was Miss San Antonio 1976. You can look it up. For me, dating Tanya, was like moving from the “outhouse” to the “penthouse” in one fell swoop.

That morning I awoke hearing my father tell my mother that Robert Kennedy had won the California primary. He had stayed up late with David, very late for a week night, to watch coverage of the election returns in California which was three hours behind us. My mother said, “That will make Billy happy.” Indeed. I had another 30 minutes before David would shout up the stairs my wake up call and I laid in bed nodding in and out of sleep in a blissful state over Kennedy’s victory.