It was a Wednesday. I was 5.
This was the fourth fifth time I'd watched one of those impossibly immense Saturn Vs lift off from Cape Kennedy. My mother insisted on watching every televised moment she could of those flights, and I was right there beside her, as much as I could. During 9 and 10, the school was dutifully notified that I was staying
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And thank you for sharing. :)
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If Dad hadn't sold the business when I was in high school, I probably would have gone into the field myself.
(Considering our *ahem* divergent political viewpoints, that would have been... amusing.)
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It's been almost thirty years since we owned the paper, and I have no idea how many times it changed hands after the original sale -- or even if it survived what my father always growled was massive incompetence on the parts of the first buyers.
Heck, I think that by the time he sold the chain, the Inglewood News had shifted to a weekly.
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Very Cool. :)
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