I recently came across an article in the Sunday “New York Times” of February 27th about a close childhood friend. He was born in Hollywood, California in December, 1947 (six months after I was born), but spent most of his childhood in New York City. I spent many happy afternoons, later Saturdays, enjoying his company when I was a child. When I went off to college, my friend did also, doing revival shows with a close associate from Buffalo. Now, at the age of 52, he is locked up in a bank vault in New London, Connecticut, the subject of a involved custody battle. In December, his mother flew out from Palm Desert, California to Groton, Connecticut to identify him as her progeny. You can imagine my concern for his well-being. He always had such a bright smile on his face and always managed to cheer me up, even on the gloomiest of days. I would
recognize him anywhere. He was short for his age and always wore blue jeans, a red bandanna and checkered shirt. Now, he is in a trunk in the New London bank vault waiting to find out if he is going to move to the Detroit Institute of Arts or end up on the block at Leland’s auction house. In a few weeks, a federal judge in Hartford will decide the fate of my friend Howdy Doody.
Ken Svengalis
R.I. State Law Library
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