Attending a football game while enrolled at Lehigh University, he had a bit too much to drink and tumbled out of the stands, landing on the ground ten or so feet below. A man named Billy Porter, who would become a close friend of his, met up with him in the bathroom right after. Porter’s memory of meeting my father is watching him urinate blood, profoundly and utterly unconcerned with any possible damage done to his internal organs.
