Last Updated on March 11, 2014 by Roff Graves

An antique/art shop on old Main Street in Lodi was such fun. Yea, there was crime all around me but I made friends and I was left alone. One Saturday morning I was in the shop when one of the local street walking prostitutes came in. She respectfully called me Mr Graves. She explained to me that she was hungry–that she and her baby hadn’t eaten for awhile. I was shocked. I had no idea she had a baby, Well, there was this liquor store market across the street, on the corner. I gave her a few dollars and she headed for the store. In a few minutes she returned carrying a bag of groceries (I guess she wanted me to know what she spent the money on)—She thanked me profusely I asked her about her “baby”, how old it was. Oh! She replied, “He’s 19”.—Memories–olRoff

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