I first met Bob Ortez in my Homeroom in High School. Mr. Thompson was our Homeroom Teacher. Bob came to our High School late maybe when we were Sophomores. I did not grow up with Bob but we became friends quickly. We weren’t the same type of person, which I guess was good because we had a lot to talk about. Bob lived with his Uncle and Aunt on Buena Vista and as it so happens Bob’s Uncle worked with my Dad. I never could figure out why Bob was living with his Uncle along with numerous Brothers and Sisters but it didn’t matter at the time. Bob invited me to have lunch at his house one school day at which time I noticed that Bob smoked cigarettes and as such he wasn’t much of a runner. I remember having bologna sandwiches with lettuce and some Mustard and a Coke that day. In the garage of their long long garage was a 1954 Chevy station wagon and we would find parts for it over the years and we ended up finally getting it to run. We learned a lot working on that old car, all about valves, transmissions just about every thing we could learn we learned on that car over the years. I spent many evenings in their back yard talking with Bob, their neighbor that worked at the Telephone Company and with Bob’s Uncle. I, being the rebel, would debate anything that came along with Bob’s Uncle. That’s right now I remember his name: Uncle Bill. Bob was smart as a whip but seemed to not want to apply himself to the fullest. He was thoughtful and had a very dry sense of humor and stated the obvious when nobody else would. He had a cousin named Kelly that was much older than him but he spent a lot of time at Kellys’ babysitting her kids for her. Bob once talked me into cutting class – we went to the market across the street from the High School. I told him that it wasn’t my style to cut class and he didn’t ask me after that. As the years rolled on he got a cutlass somehow and we drove that thing to Santa Cruz and once we drove to the grapevine but turned around and came home because we didn’t have any money for gas. Back to the old car in the garage. We finally got it going in our senior year and backed it out of the garage and put about $2.00 of gas in it. We drove it up to the Oakland Hills (Redwood Road) and had a fun time up there but had to get back before his Uncle came home from work which was about 3:45 PM. We rolled into the garage running on empty sliding in seconds before his Uncle pulled into the driveway. We took rides up to Quincey to visit with our other Friend Allen McKinstry. He would always say I’ll drive. He drove fast but I can’t remember him saying he ever got a ticket. I stayed in touch with Bob until about 1986 and that was the last time I remember seeing Bob. I’ve been searching over the years for some clue where he was – I do remember him saying he was living in Long Beach. Hey Bob if I had to do all those years over again I’d do it exactly like we did it. Thanks for the memories, miss you much and sorry we couldn’t spend more time together in the later years.