While visiting my sister, Teresa, during the summer of eighty-nine, I was introduced to a very charming and loveable friend whom she had met while living in Nashville. He was a rather tall man standing six-feet three inches, soft wavy blonde hair with a hint of dark tones that gave him a suave California surfer appearance. His eyes were the color of sapphires; gleaming in the sunlight and his smile was soft and warm. He spoke in a kind and respectable manner expressing the hospitality of a true southern gentleman. I had no idea at the time how much of an impact he would have on my life. Through his courage to face another day, his strength to fight back the agony and pain that rippled through his body every moment of every day and his never
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