In the tenth grade, Tim Adams was one of my best friends. Tim was on our track team, an outstanding hurdler, and football team, a great running back. My memory of Tim is, for reasons not to be revealed, he turned off the head lights on the old Studebacker he was driving with me in shotgun and shot accross San Jose Boulevard at eighty miles per hour during early evening traffic hoping there was no oncoming car to t-bone us. While I was screaming as we crossed San Jose, Tim was laughing; Tim loved adventure, more than I could share with him. We stayed casual friend through our junior and senior year. A really good guy.
Ronald Stock (1960)
In the tenth grade, Tim Adams was one of my best friends. Tim was on our track team, an outstanding hurdler, and football team, a great running back. My memory of Tim is, for reasons not to be revealed, he turned off the head lights on the old Studebacker he was driving with me in shotgun and shot accross San Jose Boulevard at eighty miles per hour during early evening traffic hoping there was no oncoming car to t-bone us. While I was screaming as we crossed San Jose, Tim was laughing; Tim loved adventure, more than I could share with him. We stayed casual friend through our junior and senior year. A really good guy.