I feel crushed. Numb. So many memories. My father died when I was five years old. I think Sandy became my surrogate dad about 1959--in Chicago. For sure, he was my mentor, the one who showed me I ought to blaze and look for a path there I could walk down---and make my own. Following his lead, has made all the difference. More later, when I am better able.

Old buddy, goodnight!

Love,

Art