Life was different for us in Fair Lawn. It was a much nicer town than Lodi, at least in our opinion, and we didn't have my dying grandfather and his messes looming over everything. I'm sure my dad felt that it was a new start, for us and for him.

It was 1969 when we  moved to 16-38 Elliott Terrace, probably the summer because I don't remember changing schools in the middle of the year. I don't know if my father went to community college while still in Lodi, but I know that he attended William Paterson while we lived in Fair Lawn, and I think Bergen Community College too. He was going to become an urban planner––fight the revolution from within, I guess. Is there a transcript somewhere? I know he took creative writing classes, because some of his assignments are graded and have instructor commentary.

Fair Lawn was where it was all supposed to come together. Unfortunately, it was where things fell apart. We had more money here than in Lodi, and it seemed we were on the up and up. But demons run faster than people.

These stories are (mostly) dated in a tight cluster at the end of 1972. It would have been a slow time for the roofing season, and he might have had a lot of time on his hands. Maybe he had a huge creative spurt, or maybe he revised versions of his work and finalized them. 

I do know there's nothing labeled after 1972. This last burst of stories may have been a last grasp at something, a last straw for something.  

1. A RAINY DAY
2. NO BOOZE TONIGHT!
3. GO AHEAD AND CRY
4. SCREW YOU, JIM BISHOP