Several years ago I went with my brother to a gun show in Tulsa, Oklahoma. We stopped to see a statue in honor of oil drillers, locally known as "Golden Boy." When I got home, I told Jim that while I was in Tulsa I had met Golden Boy. He nearly wept. I had supposed that the silly name would tell him right away that there was no threat from Golden Boy, but no. I had been swept off my feet by a statue.
Jim adored you. He was a lucky man.
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