L. Clyde Caldwell. (vintage photo, public domain)
I share this story simply because it shows how life's course can be altered by the gelntlest breeze. My grandfather attended a trade convention in Florida when I was 8 years old. There was a drawing for prizes during the closing dinner. My grandfather's number was called and his prize was a small transistor radio.
On the back of the blue plastic was embossed the words: Boy's Radio. This is how it found its way to me as a birthday present that July. I never stopped listening. He might have won the steak knives.
