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Orlando Sentinel
Orlando Sentinel
Hadn’t seen ol’ Red for years until late Monday in a swanky establishment in Indianapolis. I had written him off years ago and thought he would be dead by now, probably from drinking his sorrows away. Last time I saw him was at a bar in Jacksonville called the Free Bird Lounge. He was on the sidewalk out front in baggy pants, frayed flannel shirt and an old pair of oversized bowling shoes he’d found in the dumpster behind the bowling alley. “Hey, stranger,” he said then, “you got any money for an old man to get a drink?” As he took of his hat and turned it over so I could drop some coins in it…
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