Omar & Diego (and Marilyn)

 Omar and Diego came from Chicago and the family lived in an apartment across the street from the tennis park.  So naturally we welcomed them. Diego was a year or so younger and a good learner like his brother, but  Omar started to cross step after hitting his serve,  This is caused by a desire to hit he ball harder and is very difficult to master so Diego managed to hold his own with him.. 

Omar Marilyn, Diego    All Grown up.

One terrific pro who got away with that was Boris Becker.  He had a very powerful cross step serve and won Wimbledon at age 17. And Omar watched.  So, this became  a great time for Diego, because he could  beat his older brother and anybody knows there is nothing so cool as that..  I encouraged them to play each other saying to each (while alone with each) 'try to make your brother the best tennis player you can.'   Omar took this seriously while Diego was living a younger brother's dream.    
They were both eligible for county league play and both went with the team to Moore Park on the day we had the coach's organizational meeting to practice with the Moore Park team.  One of the coaches came over to me and, pointing at Omar and Diego said,
"There is  no way those kids are  first year players",  raving about Diego's serve and  Omar's power.  I explained they had come from Chicago only a couple of months ago and had not played tennis before.  After the other coaches talked to the kids, they all agreed they were eligible to play.

On the way back to our park. when we stopped for our usual Flora's pizza, I explained what happened and asked them to agree not to play on the team.   I would keep working with them and help  them  participate in USTA weekly  tournaments.  It took a lot of persuasion. 
Then, when Omar was a junior in high school, after much work, he finally taught himself how to serve and land on his left foot and follow up with a volley.  He became # 1 for the Beach Hi team and for Diego, the bubble burst.

The best part of the brothers was their, just turning 4 year old sister, Marilyn.  Heaven seems to know just  how to  make 4 year old girls and what a beautiful creation she was..



Marilyn now: still Beautiful

The owner of the hotel theater on Miami Beach,  which was playing  Peter Pan, gave me more than 40 seats for the live production..  So chaperones in tow we all went to see Peter Pan.  On the night I went, when the show was over, we couldn't find Marilyn.  We had everyone looking for her.  We couldn't find her.. . .  Finally someone re-looked where she was sitting and there she was.  Sleeping.  She was so small when the cushion seat came up, with her  sleeping between it and the back of the seat, she was almost completely hidden.. .  I still remember that awful, terrible fear.

Oh yeah.  During the tournament year the team had to default one match but even without Omar and Diego, we finished 18-1.  We also won the championship playoff and the team all got trophies. Second year in a row.


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Paul



Paul was a business associate and friend, His grandfather was the developer of a long stretch of  real estate on the near downtown north east side of Biscayne Boulevard.

I don't think his father ever worked for anyone outside the family and the only job I know that Paul had was delivering helicopters to Central and South America from either one of our two leading copter manufactures. He was a 2 engine rated, fully licensed pilot with plenty of flying hours .  The copter's  flying range was only a couple of hundred miles so it was a lot of ups and downs.  He was always inviting me to go with him but I was always able to get out of it..  And then he invited me to fly with him to Bimini, where he owned an apartment and a boat.  Bimini is a short hop and the more I refused, the guiltier I
felt, especially since, on several occasions, I had accepted his offer to make use of his 50 Sutton Place South apartment in NY. That flight on a single engine Cessna was one of the most  harrowing experiences of my life.  I had flown in an A-20 Army trainer but this was much smaller. When I got in the seat next to him  I saw a half full (half empty?) bottle of scotch on the floor and I realized he was already in the tank.  A flight that short doesn't last long but it seemed like an eternity to me and even tho there were no problems and we landed smooth as silk, I  already knew there was no way I wanted to fly back with him.  But while we were there he didn't drink at all, so I did go back with him on an uneventful trip.  I still consider it not one of my better decisions.

Every year Paul would enter a boat in the annual Nassau boat race and he would bring his boat and mechanic down to get it ready at a slip on the 79th Street Causeway.  Year after year they would work for a week or more and somehow never get the boat ready in time for the race. It would always develop motor trouble in the last inland waterway tryout. I cant remember his ever getting that boat in the actual Nassau race.



Zip,zip,zip

Nassau also had an auto racing track and Paul had an entry in that too.  And he was scheduled to be the driver in a small car class race.  While practicing on the track one early evening, he convinced me to take a ride with him in his small Renault, with him behind the wheel. Get the hell out of here!!.  At 50 mph or so, a few inches above the ground, it was scarier that the flight to Bimini.  When you watch it doesn't look like they go fast, but inside, so close to the ground, the sensation was like going a hell of a lot faster.  And  Paul was practicing going out of or into the turns so he could take them at a faster speed,.  Oh my goodness,   It went right up there on my 'don't ever do that again, list.

I don't want to give the impression that he wasn't competent, he was, and he liked doing this kind of stuff.  He had been an Air Force pilot, a good student in college and he was well informed on many subjects.  In business sessions he asked very perceptive questions and he was a very engaging social companion. But for  me, these were first time experiences and scary..  I might add, very scary.

We visited the only casino Nassau had at the time, it was small and it was only open for a short time period in January.  I went with him to the casino where he played roulette while I went to the (only) craps table.  In short order I lost the money I had allotted for the evening and  went to where he was at the roulette table.  I heard him ask the croupier, who had to keep track of chips and bets and make quick, correct  payouts to winners, "did he know the viscosity of the oil used on the roulette wheel's ball bearings?"   That was Paul, he had no concern for the quandary this put the croupier in.  Part of  his job was  to answer questions from the players.  The questions were usually like, how much was a stack of chips or which color chips were for which amounts of money....but, 'oil viscosity?'  Up to then I thought being a croupier was an easy job.  But that was Paul.  As for me I just tried to fade into the atmosphere.

I was grateful when an opportunity came and I was able to do a favor or two for him because using his apartment in NY had resulted in some very pleasant Big Apple memories for me and Rae and it had been  difficult for me to reciprocate.  But then, finally, when he asked me to go for a ride in the racing boat I confronted  him and asked him if he was deliberately trying to give me a heart attack or what? 

He didn't even know what I was talking about.

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