Saturday, August 10, 2024
Gene and I grew up together. Not just friends but brothers. Our first drag race: At 16 years old in our parents' cars raced up third street over the bridge, leaving the ground at the top, ending at where Tulsa PD is today. Neither of us wants to quit ( I think I did ). Hanging out at Chris's, the Hub. Cruzing the line, 11th and Brookside. I remember Gene's first date with Marty, the love of his life. His daughters, Amanda and Tammy, whom he was so proud of.
Our first traffic stop. The cops made us pour out our beer. It was devastating, but we bought more. When I returned from Vietnam, Gene was at the airport with a can of cold beer hidden in his jacket. We openly drank it while walking out of Tulsa International. Everyone looked, but nobody said a word. That was my old buddy Gene. No matter the distance or challenges between us, Gene always had that cold beer in his jacket. I miss you, old friend.
Jacky Hamilton
