I never did get the full skinny on how it all went down that day. All I know is that it was my brother and his pal, this guy. A couple of ex-Catholic high school boys; you know the type - four years in, walk out with a fancy piece of paper, the whole nine yards. Then two years later they're back in town, cruising the mean streets, past all the usual joints - Montgomery Ward, J.C. Penney, F.W. Woolworth, Thom McAn, The Cottage Bookshop. That's right: San Rafael, California.
When it happened, it happened fast. First his pal pulls up and parks, lights himself a cig, happy as a clam, not a worry in the world. Then my brother hauls off and shoots him with his Lordox, a German 35mm job loaded with Kodak Tri-X. For years afterwards my brother keeps this pic pasted in a book or something. What a crazy guy.
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