Jeb Monge PrimeTime column: 1945 was an insightful year
When I was 6, in 1945, I had two impressive experiences.
The first was Old Man Schnorr. This was not a derogatory term. We called him that with respect. He was an elderly man who lived north of Andy's Gas Station, which was on Highway 14. He had a house in the middle of the woods.
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