Sumthingtotalkabt

He stood by the elevator, at the base of the grandstand at Hollywood Park, and waited. Passing friends asked him what the hell he was doing, hanging around for hours in a suit, instead of the usual jeans and polo shirt. Next day, Sunday, he was back in position; and again the following weekend, and every weekend afterwards, until most people would have long abandoned the siege. Until, at last, the elevator opened and there he was: John C. Mabee. "Mr. Mabee, my name is Randy Lowe," he said. "You...