In the fall of 1971 I was standing in the great room of the Kappa Sigma fraternity in Laramie, Wyoming with my good friend Jim and his fraternity brothers. It was a sunny crisp Saturday morning, a perfect day to go to the Wyoming football game. I was all in for that, but when the entire house decided to go streaking through fraternity and sorority row I must have turned white as a ghost.
Omaha, 1970. Most, if not all of our friends had curfews, so on the weekends Jamie and I often ended up driving around Omaha and the surrounding area very late at night. I had to have Pat (now my wife) whom I was going steady with home by 11:00, so after I took her home Jamie would often pick me up and off we went.
One beautiful fall day Jamie came over to my house with a couple of friends to visit me and my friend Jim Holtz, who had stopped by to visit on his way to the University of Wyoming. We all decided to hop in Jamie’s car and have a picnic. Jamie loved to drive and we ended up 100 miles south in Kansas at a park with food we had picked up at a fast-food joint.