Waves of Life - Jim Hamilton

Page 21

Chapter Two T H E FI RST WAVE

Lying on the couch in our family room on Hamilton Avenue on a Friday evening in 1969, I was consuming oatmeal cookies and milk, while watching my favorite TV show Star Trek. Then the phone rang in the house, prompting me to jump up from the couch to answer it. The voice at the other end introduced itself as “Stanford Hospital” and asked to speak with my father. “Dad, it’s for you,” I shouted as I placed the phone down, returned to the family room, and proceeded to re-engage with the crew of the Starship Enterprise. My father had been in the living room with my mother, enjoying their Friday evening cocktails, but his mood quickly changed. Immediately after getting on the phone, my father’s face dropped and he went from being in a relaxed and jovial mood to being very serious. The conversation was a short one and upon hanging up, he called my mother into the kitchen and told her, “There’s been an accident. It’s Tom and it doesn’t look good.”

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