…Write about a current event from your own unique, subjective perspective. Show us how history is something we are part of, not some external event taking place in a palace, office, or war zone far away. —Daily Post Weekly Writing Challenge: Living History
At 7 AM on Thursday July 24, 1969 I stood outside my house, lunchbox in hand, waiting for Harry to stop and pick me up for the ride to work. Today marked one day shy of a year from when I first met Harry and our relationship had strengthened and grown in the intervening months since our first day together.
We were working on the sales office for the Quadomain condominiums on South Florida’s Hollywood Beach. It was an ambitious project consisting of four twenty-seven story hi-rise towers (810 residential units in all) and two swimming pools. The push was on to get the office open and condo deposit money flowing in the doors.
Harry’s white Ford pickup truck, with cab-over camper, came to a stop in front of my driveway. I walked around the back of the truck and opened the passenger-side door.
“Ya got enough room, Kid?”
I stared at a huge 21-inch television set on the front seat next to Harry. “Yeah, I can fit. Are you taking your TV in for repair today?”