Here's Margarita, light of my life. We were married in February, 1963.

She is tough, tender, smart, independent, private, giving, thoughtful, loving, and someday will be run over by a car when she is trying to rescue an animal. I've been telling her that since 1963.

The privacy gene just assumed a dominant role: she has required that the page of complimentary and touching history I had typed here be s***-canned. So be it.

Here we are, happy as clams, Geneva at about age 11 months. Living in a nice little one-bedroom on Avenida Cinco de Mayo, Zona Norte, Tijuana. I was working four-on, four-off, three-on, three-off, 12-hour days. A great schedule for a young, energetic family man.

A quarter-century later, give or take
Margarita and her daughter on the beach

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