Thirty years ago today, I met Bill Ledbetter at a “party,” one where we connected inside my first five minutes of being there. After I left, I couldn’t quite shake how much I enjoyed meeting him, unusual for someone whose motto was always “in bed by midnight, home by three.”
The next day I called him. I was a little nervous. I hadn’t really ever made a date before. “Would you want to go to dinner tonight?”“Sure!”Relieved at his instant response, we set it up to meet at Baja Cantina, a Mexican place near the boat in the Marina that I was living on.
There was really no turning back after that second night we spent together. It was nine-and-a-half of crazy roller coaster years before he was gone. In an instant, without warning.
And I’m a better man for knowing and loving Bill Ledbetter