Roger Cole sent this E-mail on 7/17/2002

I'm sitting quietly on the couch, sipping my second Martini, my wife hands me the
phone...Holy Crap! It's Harry Sasson!

I fell of the couch, scared the dog, banged my knee on the end table, managed to get up and
compose myself while he told me about you guys. What a trip!

A few days later I got some emails and wandered around the web sites trying to remember
stuff. Forty-six years is a long time, and some of it's there and some of it isn't -- we're all
old farts you know (at least I am). The girls I remember -- big surprise there! Some of the
guys...well you know, it was a matter of priorities. I remember getting drunk at Terry's
house (thought he was going to beat me up 'cause I was making a move on Micki Gillett --
fine body and mind), playing Burre (I think that's what it was called) and poker, make-out
parties and that swim club with a bowling alley in Las Mercedes...oh well, those stories
are for Texas when we get together and you guys can help me separate fact from fiction.

In the meantime, here's a synopsis of my life since those days. I haven't done anything
terribly earthshaking, made a lot of money or contributed much the betterment of our
planet, but it's been a blast and continues to be.

I left Venezuela in 1957 for Miami and enrolled in U of M studying engineering. I was a
mediocre student and much to my surprise Dad wasn't rich and the money ran out the
second year. Working as a waiter and various nefarious scams put me through until 1960
when I joined the Army.

Great gig -- I highly recommend it.

Spent '60 thru late '63 with the Army in Europe. While on leave (you get 30 days a year) I
traveled all over, from Southern Italy to the North Hebrides. While at the U of M, I
discovered that I had a talent for painting and I parleyed that to paint murals in a couple of
bars near the post in exchange for free drinks. Sketching young girls proved to be very
rewarding. I made sergeant twice. I lost the rank the first time for going AWOL for five
days with a fine young lady from Frankfurt -- cost me fourteen days hard labor near the
Czech border. Every day's an adventure.

After the Army, I settled in Los Angeles and tried to make it as an artist living in a garret
on a roof of a tenement downtown. I met some real artists and realized that my talent was
mediocre. It was time to quit fooling around and get a real job. I did, and had the
tremendous good fortune of meeting Vicki, my bride for 37 years. She worked; I went
back to College and earned a degree in Math.

Upon graduation, Lockheed and the CIA recruited me. Vicki saved my skinny little butt
(she's done that countless times) and I went to work for Lockheed and she quit. I spent 30
years with the company and had great fun. Most of the work was classified which has good
points and bad points. The bad points are that you are subjected to frequent background
checks (yes, they do search your trash) and when you travel, you can't tell your family
when or where you are going. The good points are that you learn to leave your work at
work -- a lot less stress -- and you are not in the mainstream of "Corporate America".
Naturally I took advantage of that, no tie, long hair and an earring -- tasteful of course. In
spite of that, I was eventually promoted to Division Manager and had nearly 200 people
working for me. Eventually the merger mania of the '90s took hold and my particular
management style fell out of favor. The plant in Burbank was closed and I was transferred
to Georgia. Work was no longer fun and living in the eighteenth century is a pain, so I
retired and moved back to California. Risky proposition financially, but what the hell --
every day's an adventure.

So much for work. Off work, life has also been fun. Vicki -- that's the woman who keeps
me from doing really stupid things by letting me do little stupid things -- blessed us with
two children. Our daughter, Dawn, has overcome severe learning disabilities and learned
sign language to be able to help deaf children. Our son, Matthew, is a restaurateur in
Atlanta.

Children are great. I highly recommend them.

Naturally, we partied hardy. Did the Disco thing. Puffy polyester shirts, skirts slit up to
your ass, dance contests...etc. Then came Heavy Metal. We managed a band called Stone
Soldier (don't quit your day job). We did gigs at the Whiskey a Go-Go, the Troubadour
and many really skuzzy places like Filthy Mc Nasties -- the name says it all. We couldn't
keep the boys in the band -- and they were beautiful -- off drugs, so they eventually crashed.

We traveled a little À!À New York, D.C., Nassau, Miami, Hawaii, Mexico, cross-country
jaunts. Did the Hands Across America thing in the middle of the desert. Opened our home
to homeless young people (one at a time) and rehabilitated them. Three successes, one
failure -- he died of AIDS.

After I retired, we sold our house and headed back to California. We spent three months
living out of our van and motels until we found a house. We're settled in now. I play golf
at least once a week and got a job Mondays & Sundays as a retail clerk in a tobacco store --
great gig. I love dealing with the public -- the entertainment value is priceless. I've become
a wanabe novelist (wanabe only because I haven't been published yet). Spy stories and
historical novels about Che Guevara and war in Nicaragua. Anybody an agent or in the
publishing business?

Now I've heard from you guys. The adventure continues!

Con abrazos, tu amigo, El Flaco,

Roger Cole.

PS. Forward this to whoever if you like.
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