I’m often pleasantly amazed when looking through old print photographs, by coming across shots of friends I haven’t seen in decades, haven’t heard from in a long, long time. Like my friend Bambi, seen here. Bambi moved to Boston in the 1980s from New Orleans where, if the stories are true, her wild life was remarkable even in that town. When I met her, she had calmed down some, was finally learning to drive (in Boston?) and told me, in her tough Tennessee Williams drawl, “Boston is a mean and nasty town. Birthplace of democracy? I don’t get it.” Still, she received not only her driver’s license but, soon after, her longed-for acceptance into the ranks of National Park Service rangers. Then she disappeared as mysteriously as she’d arrived. Ranger Bambi was a real hoot and I hope our paths cross again someday.
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