January 2, 1968
One of the issues Jenny and I were concerned about was communication while I was in Vietnam. There were many unknowns; Jenny couldn’t write to me without an address, and I didn’t have her Fresno address. It was decided I would initially write to her parents’ address in Glendale, and they would forward my contact information to Jenny’s new address in Fresno (communication was going to be tricky).
We took a stroll down to the beach and walked on the boardwalk. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the summer we met and the good times we shared while falling in love. Now, in the middle of winter, the beach was empty, the lifeguard station was closed and there was little activity (not the same warm and fuzzy feeling).
The Laguna Hotel was open, and we went into the Captains Cabin (lounge) for a drink. We sat at the bar facing a large saltwater fish tank filled with exotic reef fish and a snakelike eel. The eel would surface every so often and settle to the rocky bottom of the tank. After our second drink the bartender brought us a complimentary round . . . we ordered another. By the time we left it was early evening and cold outside, although we were a bit buzzed. We walked the familiar route to the Gazebo overlook and watched the remnants of the pink sunset over Catalina Island. We had walked this walk before (the night we met), and our feelings were intimate. After a quick walk to the cottage, we settled in for for the night without turning on the lights.
Next Edition:. Good-bye Charlie