Rate this story The flight out of Ronald Reagan departed on schedule, as did the plane out of St Louis. So, I arrived at John Wayne about mid-afternoon, paid my respects to the Duke, picked-up my Hertz (exactly), and made my way north on I-5. It was October and hot – Southern California was experiencing a vicious Santa Ana. I read her last e-mail with the directions to her studio as I drove through Orange County. Gone were the bean fields, replaced by oil rigs the orange groves displaced by a thousand sub-divisions and malls. Hell, even the Marines were...
