jim richardson

“We loved cars, and we enjoyed the challenge of fixing them. It didn’t occur to us that we didn’t know how.”

I was a tall, skinny guy in high school, and not very effective at defending myself. But I didn’t need to be because my best friend, Rick, was formidable. He was my height, but had hands like baseball mitts, 17-inch biceps, and could bench press 170 pounds. I had 11-inch pipe-stem arms, like the wimp in the Charles Atlas ads.

Neither of us