My father used to work for Grumman/Northrop Grumman. In the mid-eighties he was part of a top secret team to come up with a stealth fighter. He, and a bunch of others, went to California to work with another company and compete against two other companies.
He went to California in April, 1985, when I was in 7th grade. I spent that summer (in between 7th and 8th grades) out there with him and had a blast. It was that summer that I started bike riding long distances with his boss on bike paths similar to the one pictured here.
When that summer was over, I came back east to continue school. Without my father around, and being in a different school (long story to be continued later, maybe), I didn't fare so well in the new surroundings.
In January, 1986, I was pulled out of that school and I moved out to California to live there. I enrolled in middle school out there and did fabulously. In three months time I was on the honor roll. Shortly after that, I had my accident. There was a certain amount of luck being injured just south of Los Angelee because I was near one of the best rehab hospitals in the country, Rancho Los Amigos Medical Center.
Strange things happen...maybe for a reason.
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