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May, 1984
The last time I checked, Buffalo Bob Smith was still living. But not in living color. It was a good 30 years ago that Buffalo Bob first visited our house. He was in the middle of a large piece of furniture and it took two men to carry him in. It was a very nice piece of furniture, a deep, rich mahogany that my mother polished at least twice a week; when it reached its highest gloss, she placed her finest vase of artificial flowers right on top. We would spend some of our best hours in front of t...
