It was early Summer of 1994. My wife, daughter, and I had been in Stockton California since October of 1989, a hastily made decision brought about by a late night phone call informing me that my Mother had had a stroke while driving my Aunt Alice home from a night out, and had a very bad automobile accident. She wasn’t expected to survive.
Cheryl, my wife, and Amy, our daughter, flew out to California immediately. Unable to fly, I took the train, praying my Mom would hang on untiI I got there.
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