Boyhood bonds are never replaced. From pre-school days of racing our tricycles, Al and I ventured and competed together in skiing, swimming, sand-lot to Roosevelt football, back-ally basketball, fishing and hill or mountain climbing. Al had a zest for life and was game to take on new challenges with good humor. We envisaged surviving off the shores of Hood Canal by catching "sand dabs" (bottom fish) to roast on our homemade tin can stoves, before a second course of berries - aaahhh, what gastronomic delights! An endurance swim across Lake Washington and a climb of Mt. Rainier were on our agenda, plus a swim-athon across Hood Canal that defeated us. Roosevelt awakened within us interests in math, languages, science, history and literature as Al excelled academically, and I peddled hard to keep up with him, unsuccessfully. His father instilled in him horticultural know-how; his mother, I suspect, an appreciation for art, a late arrival in his ever-widening interests. His voyager person is gone, yet bonds linger.

So many fond memories; grade school, bantam league football during Jr. high, driving to Mexico in high school to go spear fishing in Guaymas, playing varsity football next to Al at Roosevelt, borrowing his model A ford for a month while he and my brother drove through Baja, our mutual love for pottery, and he introducing Julie and I to Szechuan Chinese food for the first time.