I never met a dog I didn't like (Summer 1967).

Suburban Chicago, Summer 1967. I don't remember to whom this lovely Brittany Spaniel belonged. I must have run out quickly to the driveway when I saw the dog, because I didn't stop to switch from my slippers.

My Dad's beloved Volvo sits in the garage. It was our first car with shoulder belts. Good thing: in 1972, Dad and I were in the Volvo, stuck in morning, rush-hour traffic on the Eisenhower Expressway. A disoriented driver hit us, at full speed, and the impact rippled on through five vehicles ahead of us. The Volvo was a goner, but Dad and I were fine.