One early November morning in 1979 my mother called me at work to tell me Jack's father had been killed in a car bombing. I had heard the news but never made the connection between John Paul Spica and Paul, the guy who owned the produce stand in my neighborhood.
During the next few days I learned just who his father had been via the newspapers (you can do a google search).
I worked downtown, and rode the bus home which stopped at Vandeventer and Shenandoah. I'd cross the hot asphalt in my high heels, buy some produce and wonder about the aloof guy running the stand. Eventually his girlfriend starting working with him and then his son, Jack.
I knew Jack and I lost contact with him years ago. It's one of just very few regrets. He was one of those exceptional people who had the ability to grace a life.
If you have any info please contact me via email on my profile page (and not by comments). Father and son did not share the last name and I no longer remember how to spell his last name.
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