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As I trudged up the dirt driveway after school toward our little house, I spotted a strange car parked near the front door. What happened inside during the next hour set the stage for a dramatic change early in my 11-year-old life.
It was 1949 in Arcadia, Calif., and Mom and Dad did not have much money to raise us three growing boys. Dad had trouble with arthritis in his right shoulder. That was a real hardship for a house painter.
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