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He had roamed the world as a younger man, but had come back to his roots several decades ago and settled back like he’d never gone anywhere. He and his little antique store had been a fixture at the corner of Mayflower and Seventh for as long as most people could recall. Granted, to most of them, he was just Crazy Old Vinnie who ran the pawn shop on the corner…a side business that he’d begun to try an invigorate the area, but which was his prime source of goods and income these days…but they all knew him, and he liked to think that he knew them as well. But no one could know everyone even in as small a community as Vincent’s section of Central City, and not everyone in the area is going to care how long and well established a business is if they need something from it. Or need something from elsewhere that they can’t afford without what they could take from D’Angelo’s Antiques. It began as a typical evening. Vincent had turned the sign in the front door to ‘Closed’, and begun. And say hi to everyone for me."October 15, 1983Yet again, I was behind the wheel of my Datsun, racing down the turnpike. Just like before, it was late morning, and four passengers were inside with me. The makeup and seating arrangements were a little different this time, however. Dave was now seated up front. The three girls in attendance, Eileen, Inez and Lisette, had decided to take over the back seat.Lisette was clearly having the time of her life. Not only was she about to attend a World Series game, she was reveling in the opportunity to hang out with us, almost as peers. She was far more talkative than I'd ever seen her.Inez, likewise, was thrilled about being able to watch a World Series game live and in person. "I never imagined I'd have a chance to do this," she had said to me earlier. "It's just another in a long line of amazing things that have happened to me since I met you."Touched by that remark, I nonetheless cracked, "But you already know who's going to win." That.
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